


The Five Stages of Betrayal

by MsLanna



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-28
Updated: 2016-01-22
Packaged: 2018-05-09 23:37:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 29,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5560228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsLanna/pseuds/MsLanna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A slightly changed premise from '4 Lies and 1 Truth'. Javik finds a way to destroy the Reapers in his own Cycle, not quite in his own time, though as it turns out. </p><p>I shoplifted the whole first half of the first chapter from '4 Lies and 1 Truth', too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Betrayal

**Author's Note:**

> There is no warning for depiction of **mental violence**. Bodily harm is not happening but there is a lot of rummaging through Shepards mind without consent or care.  
>  I am not certain how graphic it is.
> 
> I am not sure how to tag the relationship either. Javik's an alien of a species I have headcanoned as having only one sex. And it is a frienship, it is a hateship and it might end up in my fave ace ship. I apologise.

“Commander.”

Shepard didn't know what to make of Javik's unexpected visit in her cabin. The Prothean was approachable enough but he had never shown any interest in instigating conversation on his own. And after he had touched the Memory Shard he had become uncharacteristically quite. It was strange not to hear his outspoken opinion on her decisions.

The incident weighed on her. She had encouraged him to use the Echo Shard, feel the stored memories and she had seen the pain it had caused him. Shepard hoped it would not lead to an irreparable breach in their friendship. It was fragile enough. She had given him time and maybe now she would find out.

“What brings you up here?” She leant back, allowing his eyes to sweep the room. They slowed down along the aquarium before coming to rest on her. Shepard wondered how the differences were between feeling the place through the information touching the Normandy gave him and the input of his eyes.

“We must talk.” His eyes narrowed. “About the Crucible.”

“Of course.” Shepard gestured towards the lounge. “Is there anything in specific on your mind?”

“Yes.” Javik walked towards the couches, stared at them for a moment before sitting down on the very edge of one. “There was something in the Memory Shard.”

“I'm listening.” Shepard sat down opposite him. She had no idea how the Memory Shard worked. Even with the Cipher, the images Javik sent her always turned fuzzy as soon as he let go of her. It must be strange to to have true experiences and memories transferred that way.

“You visited our research facility on Ilos,” Javik began.

Shepard nodded encouragingly. “Yes.”

“It was only a myth in my time, but not to all soldiers before me. In the Memory Shard,” he hesitated, “one of its owners knew a lot about Ilos. The work done there. Not just on the Conduit, but also on the Crucible. The Catalyst, to be precise.”

“They knew about the Catalyst?” It was difficult not to jump at the Prothean and shake him until he continued. The scientists were still completely stumped about that part of the Crucible. Otherwise it was almost finished. “What is it?”

“I do not know,” Javik replied. “The Memory Shard had no recollections of that. It holds the memories of soldiers. But the scientists on Ilos had their own Shards.”

“We didn't find any.” Shepard sighed. “For two years scientists have turned everything upside down there.”

“You did not know where to look. And, “Javik held her glance for a while, “you are not Prothean. You cannot find them or get past the security surrounding them. Those Memory Shards hold the knowledge of our leading scientists through centuries. They have not been left lying around.”

“But you know where they are and what security surrounds them.” It was difficult not to get excited.

“Indeed.” He didn't speak for a while. “I had to use the Echo Shard again to get all details. It was just a fleeting notion before.”

“I'm sorry, Javik. After the first time-” Shepard broke off. “You didn't have to do that.”

“You're wrong.” He blinked slowly. “It is my mission, my only goal to see the Reapers defeated. I will do anything to achieve that.”

“Still.” She put a hand on his arm shortly. “Thank you. It cannot have been easy.”

“It will be worth it once we have the Catalyst.”

“Agreed. I will get Joker to set a course for Ilos immediately.”

“Thank you, Commander.” Javik got up.

“No, I have to thank you, Javik. You have lost so much and have still given us much to help.” Shepard sighed. “And I have not been able to do much for you in return.”

“I have seen two Reapers die already, defeated with little but your intelligence.” Javik smiled and showed his needle teeth. “You are doing what you can. And in the end that will mean an end to the Reapers. It is all I ask.”

Shepard wished she had his faith in their victory. Since Thessia the constant nagging of self-doubt had not abated. But with the Catalyst at their fingertips... “We will win,” she said. “I will make sure of it.”

*                *                *

Ilos didn't look as if anything had changed in the past years. It was misleading, of course. Hordes of scientists had visited the places, tried to pry more secrets out of the stone and broken remains of the Prothean facility. They had not found much of importance and over time the interested had let up again.

Shepard looked down the hallways. The vegetation was already covering up the tracks of numerous makos that had torn it open. Big chunks cut from the trees to gain access to passages and rooms were still visible, gaping reminders of more frenzied times.

She followed Javik through the maze. He kept turning his head this way or that, closing his eyes and touching the walls and floor for guidance, trying to remember a path that had been lost fifty thousand years ago. Several times they had to retrace their steps because the corridors had caved in, filled in or in one case been submerged. It was slow going.

Finally they reached an array of small rooms that resembled a living area. Remains of re-purposed pods scattered the ground. Javik stopped there for a long time, feeling the walls and ground with closed eyes.

“It is no good, Commander,” he finally said. “The security system does not accept you as a Prothean.”

That had been a risk all along. Shepard had hoped the Cipher would be enough. “It's okay. I'll back off. Let me know when to return.”

“Yes, Commander.” Javik turned his back to her, putting his palms against the wall again.

The security set-up was a complete mystery. The power in this place had been out for millennia. In the end even Vigil who had been the last piece of tech running had to shut himself down. But the experiential markers were still up somehow. As if memory was indeed the only thing that could endure through all time. It was a hopeful and scary thought.

That Javik was able to access the echoes of those long dead, the ghosts of his own people had to be a painful reminder of his loss to him. Not to mention that it did look like a miracle form the outside. Shepard stopped and put her own hands against the cold stone. Nothing happened. How would it be, to be able to feel past generations in it? The more she thought about it, the more she realised that it might indeed be more painful than uplifting. You remembered pain more readily. And the dead always outnumbered the living.

“Shepard!” Only silence followed the call.

It worried her that he had used her name and nothing else. Javik used the rank and species as designation. Names were likely reserved for less primitive lifeforms.

Shepard sprinted back to his position, finding Javik transfixed n the middle of the room, a Memory Shard clutched in his outstretched hand. She waved her hand before his eyes a few times, but there was no reaction.

“Javik!” She took his arms, but that was a mistake. Shepard was sucked up into a maelstrom of images. The extinction of the Protheans was prominent in them, the screaming of a tortured species, slowly turned into husks and other abominations. Technology intruded on them, encroached on their bodies and slowly took over everything, corrupting life itself.

Almost hidden among the colourful terrors were images of Ilos, of the Citadel, and starlit skies of foreign constellations. Pieces of blueprints wafted through the vision, reminding Shepard of the ones she had seen of the Crucible. But in their midst was a red dot, burning through the mist and just beyond her grasp. Shepard wanted to throw herself at it, retrieve it at any cost, even that of her own sanity.

“Commander.” Javik's fingers dug deep into her arms, bringing her back to the present.

Shepard blinked.

“Are you alright?” The pain receded a little as he loosened his grip.

“Yes. I am. I am here.” Shepard nodded. “I, I saw it. Almost. I couldn't make sense of it, though.”

“Of course not.” Javik let go of her. “You are not Prothean. The Cipher cannot amend this completely.”

“But you understood it?” Shepard tried to keep her hopes down.

“Of course.” Javik turned on his omni-tool, calling up the Crucible's schematics. “The Crucible is only the command unit of a bigger construction.” Another image came up.

“The Citadel,” Shepard breathed. “The Crucible is docked to its middle spike.”

“Correct.” The two images merged. “After the Crucible is attached to the Citadel, the Catalyst will trigger the energy pulse that will destroy the Reapers.”

“But what is the Catalyst?” Shepard asked.

“Not what,” Javik replied, turning off his omni-tool. “Who.”

“Who?” Her brow furrowed. “That is not making any sense.”

“Quite contrary, Commander. It does make horrible sense.” Javik began to walk away slowly. “The Crucible has been built cycle after cycle, improved by each species that worked on it. But they all were unable to build the Catalyst. Because it cannot be built. It has to grow naturally in the cycle, a part of it, ready to decide its future and all futures afterwards.”

“But why?” And Why me? Shepard didn't ask the latter.

“Because the destruction of the Reapers will change the galaxy for forever. They have harvested the intelligent species for as long as forever. If the cycle ends, this will change the galaxy fundamentally.” Javik turned to look at her. “Whatever the reason to start the cycles was, it has to be decided by a capable individual that its purpose is over.”

Shepard tried to wrap he head around it. The Leviathans had said something similar. That they had created the Reapers to save all life at any cost. It was not reasoning that made sense to her. “How would such an individual even develop?”

“As you did,” Javik replied. “Forced to the knowledge and responsibility to lead this war. Faced with the opportunities for good as well as evil. Ready to win at any cost yet not ready to let the soul of this cycle suffer for it. You would win this war with your honour intact.”'

”I would,” Shepard said. And it was true. Javik had given up on the notion that the war could be won honourably already. His whole people had. What if that was the secret? Not to give up. To be willing to sacrifice everything but that. It didn't really matter, did it? As long as it worked, Shepard was willing to do whatever it took. Almost. A tiny difference that might be crucial to the galaxy's survival.

“But the Reapers have the Citadel,” Shepard said. “They have dragged it across the galaxy and put it above Earth for whatever reasons.”

It would be most difficult to get into it. Earth was still suffering under the brunt of the Reaper attacks. And even if they reached Earth, the arms of the Citadel were closed. There was so much she had to discuss with Anderson. Her head was spinning.

“It does not matter,” Javik said. “We can easily reach it from here.”

“How?”

“We can use the Conduit.” His tone implied that she was a moron for not thinking about that.

“It shut down after we used it to go to the Citadel,” Shepard objected. “The scientists never managed to get it up and running again. Whatever Saren did-”

“Does not matter. Commander, please.” Javik stopped short and took her arms again.

A flood of images overwhelmed her momentarily. But the gist was clear. Saren had know from the Reapers themselves. Javik knew from the Memory Shard, the collective memories, experiences and knowledge of the scientists of Ilos. She blinked and nodded. “I am sorry.”

“I understand that this concept is difficult for you to grasp.” He took off at a faster stride now.

“What about the power it will need?” Shepard caught up.

“There is a small back-door to the Conduit,” Javik replied. “It may be unnecessary to power up the whole mechanism.”

“Right. I'll tell Joker and Admiral Anderson about it.” Shepard tried to get her omni-tool working while half- running after the Prothean.

“Do that.” Javik didn't slow down. “The sooner they leave for the Citadel, the sooner they can back up us there.”

“Don't tell me,” she sighed. “The Conduit's back door is also rigged for Protheans.”

“Of course, Commander.” There was actual annoyance in his voice. “We could not risk anybody else to use it. The Reapers had infiltrated every species in my cycle. “Even indoctrinated Protheans were unlikely to be accepted. I just pray that the Cipher will do the trick in your case.”

Because otherwise it would be a very short trip. She wondered if there were other ways to get into the Citadel. As long as its arms were closed it would be very difficult to punch a hole into it even if it only had to be big enough to allow her to wriggle in. On top of that, the Reapers were controlling the space around the Citadel. A suicide mission even worse than taking out the Collectors.

“Joker, patch me through to Anderson and Hackett.” Javik had found some kind of hidden door and was working on opening it. “And stay in the channel, I don't want to have to repeat myself.”

“Roger that, Commander. Patching you through.” There was a string of crackling noises.

“Shepard,” Anderson's voice was laced with static.

“Commander, what is it?” Hackett's voice didn't fare any better.

“I'm on my way to the Citadel,” Shepard said. “I don't have time to explain in detail. Javik found memories in his Echo Shard that led him to a memory Shard with the collective knowledge of the Prothean scientists on Ilos. We have the Catalyst.”

She would have loved to talk about that in more detail, but a part of the wall before them slipped to the side and Javik took up his fast pace again. “Get the Crucible ready to dock. We'll end this war. Now.”

“Are you certain, Commander?” Hackett wanted to know. “Our scientists are still uncertain about anything concerning the Catalyst except that it is connected to the Citadel.”

“I know.” She took a deep breath. “And if it wouldn't lead to a discussion longer than this cycle might have, I would explain why that is only reasonable, considering the new data I have. Let's just say they were looking in the completely wrong direction. The Catalyst is as much a part of the Citadel as the Citadel is a part of the Crucible.”

“That does not make much sense, but I will trust you on this, Shepard.” He didn't sound happy. Shepard couldn't blame him. But they had played so much in this war by ear, that one last effort wouldn't matter.

“How can we help you?” Anderson wanted to know.

“I am not sure yet,” Shepard replied. “Once inside we will open the arms so the Crucible can dock. Then I just have to find out what to do. But I have Javik and his head full of scientists with me. I will be fine.”

“Acknowledged. We will stage a distraction down here as soon as the arms begin to move,” Anderson said. “Let's hope it is the last diversion in this war.”

“I will assemble the fleets to escort the Crucible,” Hackett added. “I hope you know what you are doing, Commander.”

Shepard could only agree. But there was no reason to worry the two men any more. “I will not let you down,” she promised. “The war will end today.”

“What do you want us to do, Commander?” Joker spoke up as soon as the two Admirals had signed off.

“Go to the Citadel, see if you can help Hackett,” she ordered. “And make sure you can send backup to us into the Citadel ASAP.”

“Copy that, Commander.” Joker signed off and silence descended again.

“Have you arranged everything to your satisfaction?” Javik asked.

“Yes, they will be ready.” Shepard looked at the strange machine before them It did not resemble a Mass Relay the least. “How does this work?”

“It would take too long to explain the physics to you,” Javik said almost smiling. “Suffice it to say that it will enable travel to the Citadel from here. If you would help me get it up and running.”

“Of course, what do I do?” The procedure was not that complicated. It did take more than one person though and sometimes she had to swap tasks with Javik because the apparatus would not accept her as Prothean. Shepard began to worry.

“You will pass through first,” Javik alleviated her fears. “That way I will still be with you if the Conduit refuses you.”

“Good idea.” The machine lit up in an eerie blue glow. It resembled Prothean architecture with its slim planes and gentle curves. Other than that, it didn't look like anything she had seen before. But since the Protheans hand' built the Mass Relays after all, maybe she shouldn't be surprised.

“Are you ready, Commander?” Javik emphasised the question by checking on his weapons.

Doing the same, Shepard ran a check-list through her mind. But nothing came to mind that needed immediate attention. Once they were done with this, oh there would be so much to do. But right here, right now, all that mattered was defeating the reapers. “Ready when you are.”

“After you, Commander.”

Shepard took a step into the blue glow. It did little but eat away the layers of her very essence. She felt as if she had been stretched out across the whole galaxy and then rolled up wit it into a very complicated knot. The tension rose and then erupted in an explosion of coloured sound, leaving her quivering and gasping on her hands and knees.

Maybe there was a reason nobody had ever used a Mass Relay without any kind of vehicle. Or maybe the Conduit had been tailored to Prothean specs. She blinked the world back into focus. Wherever she was, it looked nothing like the Citadel. She could see vague figures move about, a low murmur of voices reaching her ears.

“Javik?”

“I am here.”

And there he was, kneeling beside her looking, well she couldn't quite place it. Accomplished, worried, embarrassed. It didn't make sense. Something about the figures approaching them was off, but it wasn't until the first rose behind Javik like a shadow that she realised what it was.

Prothean.

But not Prothean like Javik. They wore no visible armour but loose robes, sleeveless and draped. They did have weapons, though. Nasty looking weapons, muzzles trained at the two of them. It didn't look as if they had been expected. Shepard looked at Javik.

Her personal Prothean nodded curtly at her and rose. Turning towards the others, he broke into a foreign language of guttural sounds and bright vowels.

Shepard tried to get to her feet as well, but gave up. Not only were her limbs less than willing to cooperate, the muzzles pointed at her sent a very clear message when she tried to move. So she watched Javik who was talking to whoever these people were. Finally he held out his arms, and the leader took them in a gesture pretty similar to what had happened on Horizon.

Time stood still as the two stood in silence, their eyes closed. Shepard tried to look around inconspicuously. Everybody present was Prothean and they were all dressed in draped robes of varying shades of cream. The degree of draping varied as well and if she did read it correctly, every Prothean with a weapon had very similar draping. Okay.

They seemed to have wider, flatter heads as well. Something she had no explanation for. Their skin tones covered all hues of blue, the mottled patterns as varied as those of cats. They showed no interest in her whatsoever and watched their probably leader closely.

Finally, Javik let go of them. He did not look happy, but the other Prothean didn't look convinced either. They began to talk again. This might take a while. Shepard took an inventory and, unsurprisingly, found all her weapons missing.

Javik presented the Echo Shard, pointed at her and talked a little more insistently. At that point a general murmur rose. The lead Prothean shook their head and relegated Javik back to her side. They were then escorted away none too friendly. Shepard waited until it was clear they would move no further.

“What was that all about?” She wanted to know. It earned her the butt of one of the weapons in her ribs. “Oi!”

Their guard did not look as if he was going to argue. He pointed his muzzle at her again.

Javik intervened, then turned to her. “They are discussing our fate and the truth of my testimony.” He held up a hand to stop her from replying. “They will not allow us to speak so we cannot match stories. We are also forbidden to touch.”

That didn't explain very much and brought up another truckload of questions. Where were they? And why? And how had those Protheans survived? Shepard rubbed her temple. She didn't like waiting. And staring at the side of Javik's head didn't help. Looking around didn't help either.

They were sitting in a small corner. It was just big enough for the two of them. The guards were also serving as doors. Either Javik did not have any weapons either, or they trusted him that far or they really didn't care. Or didn't think them a threat. That might be useful later. Shepard closed her eyes and tried to be patient.

Her patience was sorely tested. There were no refreshments or even a drink of water. The guards were relieved by new ones and still nothing happened. Keeping her eye on the light, Shepard came to the conclusion that is was likely artificial as its angle didn't change the least.

After some time, Javik was led away. A long while after that a group of Protheans returned with Javik in their middle. Shepard wasn't certain if any of them had been in their greeting committee.

“They are willing to accept my explanation of who we are and where we come from,” Javik said. “But they need to verify with you.”

Nothing easier than that. Shepard got up, not quite sure which story Javik had told them. She'd just stick to the truth and see how that worked out. “What do they want to-” Shepard choked, when the leader of the group suddenly grabbed her arms, flooding her mind with enquiries and demands.

This was not how she had expected this to go. It was also a far cry from the exchanged she had had with Javik on Horizon. For one, she was not receiving any images or ideas at all. And the Prothean was not careful with her memories either. It felt as if it was rummaging through her mind like a cluttered drawer, trying to find the long lost twelfth teaspoon for the set of the cutlery.

When she tried to take a step back and free herself from his grip, the two guards turned, holding her in place at her shoulders. She could feel their minds at the back of her head, too, pressing against her consciousness like steel. When the Prothean searching through her memories finished, they began to talk to Javik immediately, making space for another Prothean who looked none to happy, but determined.

Shepard bounced off the guards standing behind her, when the second Prothean reached for her arms. A glance at Javik revealed him to be deep in discussion, his back turned to her. Before she could demand support from him, the next set of thoughts began digging through her thoughts with meticulous, if careless determination.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Speak scathing words of broken ashes,  
> Ashes of a trillion souls  
> Ask them if your honour matters  
> Listen to the silence howl
> 
>    
> 


	2. Perseverance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: Implied dub-con (if you can find it).

It took Shepard a moment to realise she was coming to. Her whole mind was bedraggled. Thoughts tumbled around chaotically. She felt unable to sort through any of them. She was lying on something hard that was barely softened by a thin layer of plastic foam under her. An even thinner blanket had been cast over her. It did not keep the cold at bay. She shivered.

Opening one eye, Shepard peered into the cold. The room around her was tiny, just as long as her makeshift bed and maybe an arm's length wider. She was lying on little more than a ledge protruding from the wall. And there was indeed no mattress. The blanket was just a piece of cloth. The walls were bare, no window, just a closed door and a bright overhead light. It was slightly off in its tint, too much blue, too hard and at the same time not bright enough.

Getting up, she tried to shake the persistent headache. Not that she was surprised. After the third Prothean had started to confirm the inside of her head, she had just blacked out. There was no knowing if that mattered at all. She didn't know what was worse, having to do that again or having her mind and memories probed and poked while she was out cold.

Liara would have a field day. It turned out that no, not all Protheans were that severe. The rest was actually a lot worse. And where did they even come from? Shepard had a nagging feeling that she was way out of her own home, but couldn't put a finger on it. Probably just thoughts leaking through while her mind was getting ransacked.

Swinging her feet over the edge of the bed was not the best of all ideas. Her thoughts went tumbling head over heels. Shepard found herself staring at the wall for a good minute. There was a niche in it containing more sheets. Probably clothing, Shepard decided. Putting on one of those was more difficult than expected. If she still had had a knife, cutting in a hole for the head would have been at the top of her to-do list.

The door led to another room. It contained a table, a bench cut from the wall free space with unknown contraptions as well as three more doors. One in the opposite wall and two right next to the one she had emerged from. The first of those revealed a tiny bathroom. The second revealed another small chamber like hers, just without a ledge for the bed. Instead a weird structure was attached to the side wall.

With a shrug Shepard returned to the main room again. Not unexpectedly, the last door was closed and stayed closed. Knocking on it brought forth no reaction. Shepard felt incredibly tired, hungry, thirsty and confused. She sat down at the table. The height of the bench was uncomfortable, the height of the table top was off as well. Putting her head in her hands, she tried to think.

What was the last that had happened that made sense? Going through the Conduit. But that should have taken them to the Citadel. And this place didn't look like the Citadel. The walls, bench and table looked as if the had been carved from a rock, but tapping them exposed them for the metal they were. Why put such effort into the disguise? Why disguise it at all? And where was Javik? And when would she finally get something to eat again?

It took Javik forever to return. He either had had help dressing, or somebody had imprinted him with a tutorial while she had been asleep. The comparison to an oversized Greek beetle suggested itself.

“Where have you been?” Shepard began. “No, wait, where are we? What is going on?”

Javik glanced at her before turning to the wall and somehow opening it. When he sat down on the other side of the table, he handed her what looked like food. “It will be difficult to understand. You may want to have eaten at least. Why did you not get yourself something? It is not poisoned.”

“How would I even know the wall opens?” Shepard took the food which tasted strange but at least seemed compatible with her physiology. “If that’s another experiential exchange thing, I don't have that.”

“I forgot,” Javik replied. “It is easy to forget how different you species will turn out now that I am back.”

“Back? How can you be back? And where?”

“The machine on Ilos was not actually a compressed version of the conduit.” He reached out with one hand, but stopped himself when she flinched. “It was a device to return me back to my own cycle with the information necessary to beat the Reapers.”

“That's impossible,” Shepard said.

“So it would seem, but it was a chance I was willing to take.”

“Everything to fulfil your mission,” she mumbled.

“Indeed. I have not done this lightly, Shepard. It is not my usual way to betray my friends.” The hesitation before the last word was almost too short to be noticeable.

“Could have fooled me.” Shepard didn't want to believe Javik. Still, it was an explanation that actually made sense of all the Protheans running around alive with a sudden.

“I make no apology,” Javik said. “I have told you what my mission was from the start. It was you who revealed this possibility to me by encouraging me to use the Memory Shard. I have to thank you for that.”

“You and the whole Prothean Empire,” she grumbled. “And boy do they have a strange way to show that.”

“It will take time for them to come to terms with the events,” he explained. “And they do believe us. The Crucible is already being built and will be ready when the Reapers arrive.”

“Wait a minute,” Shepard interrupted. “You said you were back home. Didn't the Reapers destroy half the galaxy in your time?”

There was a silence. “They did. This is not the time I come from in my cycle,” Javik finally admitted. “The machine has sent us to an earlier time, before the invasion. There will not be a Reaper war in my cycle now.”

So that was what the discussions had been about. These people had never seen a Reaper. They probably had no clue they even existed. And it had taken some doing to convince them of the impending doom. Remembering the careless plundering of her mind, Shepard somewhat wished they hadn't believed a word of it and gotten obliterated anyway.

“So that is what the mental assaults were all about?” She stared at the empty plate before her. “They did that to me just to, to get information I would have given them anyway?”

“Ajina had to. She needed to be sure,” Javik defended his people.

“No. They could have asked,” Shepard insisted. And there had been more than one Prothean rummaging around in her head, too. “I would have told them the truth and they could easily have verified it. There was no need to pillage my head like that. You managed to read me just fine without turning my head into jelly.”

But then Javik had been all alone. The last of his people. And these Protheans were in the prime of their Empire. Unquestioned, unquestioning, taking what they wanted. Entitled and unchallenged. She could expect no understanding from them, most likely not even interest.

And now Javik was becoming one of them. He certainly adapted quickly. It was difficult not to be bitter. And then, why shouldn't she? There was absolutely no reason for her to do anything much. Once she understood how the appliances in what Javik liked to call 'an apartment' worked, he was around rarely.

It was infuriating and that was in itself infuriating again. He had betrayed her. Had taken her trust and thrust her into this foreign world where she was kept as a prisoner. She would have like to wring his neck. Repeatedly. Kill him stone dead. At the same time, he was the only slightly familiar thing around.

There was little for her to do, too. The Protheans obviously didn't want anything to do with her. The few times she had gotten out of the room had not been pleasant. Ajina had arrived with Javik in tow, again not asking or even announcing her intentions before taking hold of Shepard’s arms and memories.

Then she had been lugged off to some kind of garden. As if that helped anything. Javik had spoken to the Prothean softly. Not that Shepard thought he had any influence on her.

“I know that, having read me, she can understand me.” Shepard had sat down n a bench. “Her insistence to pull anything she wants out of my head is just a continued insult.”

Javik gave her a warning glare, but she ignored it. What was the worst they could do to her? As far as Shepard was concerned, they already had reeled off the whole programme. She watched Javik talk to Ajina. Since nobody showed any interest in her, she closed her eyes.

There was real sunlight here, gentler and more yellow than the artificial light in their rooms. This was definitely not the Citadel. But where else could they have ended up? The Citadel was the Capital of for government in any cycle. Was this a science hub? Did it even matter? Because, even if she got out of her prison, where would she go? There was no way back home.

Shepard took a deep breath. It was a realisation that stung every time. There was no way home. No backup plan to return her to the Normandy. By the time her ship was going to be built, even her bones would have rotted away for millennia.

She opened an eye. The garden was empty but for her. Looking around, Shepard decided to explore a little, see what was out there. Even if there was no way to escape this nightmare. The garden was extensive and there was not a single Prothean to be seen anywhere. The trees and bushes were foreign, strange flowers were planted in strangely organic patterns through the lawns. Statues were scattered about and Shepard could see buildings in the distance.

Was it the Prothean home-world? Where had it been? And once again, what did it matter? Shepard wished she had a purpose, a mission to keep her up as Javik had had. Not that she like to remember that. It had led her here after all. Her own fault, if he could believed. What if she had advised not to relive the memories stored in the Echo Shard?

She had just begun to wonder how to get back to her room when she was collected. Javik was not with the group of Protheans, maybe still talking to Ajina or whatever it was he did the whole day. The Protheans herded her along, back into the city. There they pointed out many sights to her, usually, by grabbing her arm and dumping patriotic information into her head. It was uncomfortable to say the least.

Back in her room, Shepard had laid down, fighting the urge to cradle her head because that didn't help the least. If that was the Prothean equivalent of a night in town, she'd gladly pass. I hadn't happened often after that. As if her refusal to view the Prothean culture in the light thrust upon her was not appreciated but no other approach could be though of.

She felt like a library book that nobody would admit to having read, but everybody borrowed anyway. But that wasn't all of it. It wasn't just the constant perusal of her memories until she feared they'd break apart, sever from the spine and flutter away. How would anybody be able to put everything back in place and make it stay?

No, the worse part was that every reader felt the urge, felt entitled to leave their own assessment and commentary on the margins, between the lines on any free space and on some that were occupied. Sometimes Shepard lay in bed, sorting through her mind methodically and wondering if all of that had been already there in the morning.

Sometimes Shepard thought she might go mad. There was so much time and nothing at all to do. Sleeping did not help. The bunk was narrow and hard. Something loosely resembling a blanket had turned up, as had a pillow. Still, it was impossible to shut out the world curled up there. She did retire more often when Javik was around.

Whyever he did not get his own place. Did nobody take into consideration that it might not be the best of all ideas to put her with the person who betrayed her and everything she loved and fought for? Obviously not. And Javik was getting grumpy. Probably for the same reason. Now and then he tried to talk to her. Shepard stonewalled him. There was nothing she had to say to him. And he better feel it. It was childish, it was having no effect but it was something she could hold on to. Unlike the faces of her friends and crew that were slowly fading, not matter how hard she tried to memories their features.

“Shepard.” The door closed behind Javik. He took the few steps to the table and sat down opposite of her. “Do not walk out on me.”

She glared at him. It was tempting to do so just because he had asked her not to. But he looked serious. Maybe there was something interesting to hear. She looked at him silently. He hadn't called her 'Commander' since they had arrived. It was unimportant and shouldn't hurt.

“The work on the Crucible is proceeding well and it will soon be finished. There is worry, though that you,” he hesitated, “that you might be unwilling to act as the Catalyst for this cycle. That you may not destroy the Reapers after all.”

Shepard kept looking at him, trying to convey a world of sarcasm. But Javik did not budge. And with four eyes he was better at staring by far. “What can I do if this cycle is incapable of producing a worthy Catalyst? It is not my fault.”

Javik just looked at her for a while. “You realise that they will make you, do you? They will not hesitate to turn your mind into a shape that will act in their favour.”

“Oh, I have no illusions,” she replied. “I have had more than enough of this treatment and I'd much rather be indoctrinated than this. At least the Reapers had enough respect for me to take the long and painless route.”

“It is unfortunate,” Javik agreed. “They do not understand that you have not grown up with respect and reverence for their kind.”

“Their kind?” Shepard raised a brow. “Having trouble adapting?”

Another pause followed. “The differences are unexpectedly difficult to overcome. There is much that had been lost in the war with the Reapers. The memories in the Echo Shards were incomplete and-”

“Glorifying?” Shepard finished for him. “Aggrandised? Burying the truth under so much glamour only reflections of it survived?”

He glared at her, but there was no venom in it. “I am sorry this is so hard on you. It is not what I expected.”

Whatever he had expected. Being greeted as the saviour of the cycle? Parades and endless adulations? At least his own apartment, that much was certain. And still, here he was, caged up with her. It hat to grate on him. Shepard didn't even wish she felt sorry for him.

“I am treated like a commodity,” she said. “And not a very valuable one. You can't blame me if I see nothing worth saving here.”

“I cannot.” Now that was not the answer she had expected. “And it seems I cannot make Ajina and her people understand this. They believe they can be ready for a war against the Reapers.”

Shepard snorted. Then she just laughed. There was no reason to hide. “Talk about hubris. But I should have expected something like that. You were no different.”

“Maybe.” Javik looked as if he considered a much longer reply but he didn't say anything for a while.

Shepard took the chance to walk out on him anyway. If he had nothing to say, well, she definitely hadn't. And there was no doubt tomorrow would be another day with another chance for him to find her here. Where would she go? Nowhere, given the chance. Which usually she didn't.

Curling up in a corner of her bed, Shepard tried to forget the social interactions she had. Every touch was loaded. She began to understand why Protheans avoided it if possible. The whole fucking race couldn't stand each other.

Javik didn't try to talk to her for a few days. He did that. As if not talking to her was some kind of punishment or time-out. Shepard had gotten used to sitting in silence, staring at nothing, trying to keep her mind in order and her own. Whatever Javik was thinking in those moments. She didn't care. Just because she wasn't alone that didn't mean she was not lonely. And she was alone. Even with Javik in the same room. He did not count.

At first, she had wondered what the others might be doing. They would be looking for her. If they were alive. If they existed, which they did not. If looks could kill this realisation would have felled Javik several times. There was nobody she cared for alive. Nobody she ever cared for would ever be born. Her whole future, her whole life, a dream. Not even a dream, a fading memory.

She understood why Javik had kept the memoires locked up in the Echo Shard. He didn't remember the colour of the sky or faces, but he also didn't feel the pain any more. Whereas she couldn't remember the colour of her skies because there was too much pain. And pain that was new, too, not a memory but inflicted and added to with each passing day, with each callous touch.

“Shepard.” Javik crouched down before where she had curled up. The corner behind the table was a favourite spot. It gave the illusion of protection when the door opened. “You have to become more aware of what is going on around you.”

She didn't want to. What she wanted was to go home or just never see another Prothean in her life. Fat chance. “They know my language by now,” she murmured. “If there is anything I have to know, the can tell me.”

“They will never stoop to using your language,” Javik said. “You need to learn theirs.”

Theirs, not ours. Shepard didn't know what to make of slips like that. But Javik was spending more and more time in this prison. She was sure it was not by his choice. Sometimes the shared silences did stretched out until they felt ready to snap. “It would at least kill some time.”

“It would take too long, Shepard.” Javik held up his hands. “I was thinking of the fast way.”

She cringed away from him involuntarily. If it was up to her, nobody would ever touch her again. Ever.

“Remember Eden Prime, Shepard,” Javik told her.

She stared at him, trying her best to comply. But the images were blurry. Blue skies and prefab houses, bodies, bodies everywhere piled in the corridors, bent and broken, the useless, empty remains of experiments gone wrong. No. No that had been the Collector ship. Shepard shook her head. “I can't.”

Javik looked at her, his four eyes blinking slowly, out of sync.

She remembered those eyes, once upon a time when they had been the only set of double-pupilled eyes in the galaxy. There was a scream echoing in her mind, not hers, not from one of her unit on Akuze. It had been the startled shout of a stranger to her cycle. The remnant of a Prothean building had stood against the sky like a broken tooth.

Eden Prime. They had beaten Cerberus on that day, Garrus, James and her. Snatched Javik right out from under the Illusive Man's grasping hands. It had felt like a victory back then. It had felt like a victory for a long while, right up until- Shepard swallowed. “It isn't an agreeable memory any longer.”

“You found me there, Shepard, brought me back to life and I showed you the last moments of my cycle.” Javik held up his hands again. “Understanding the galaxy mattered to you back then.”

“That was a long time ago, Javik.” His name tasted bitter. “Ages ago. What does it matter now?”

“You are still yourself,” he insisted. “The avatar of your cycle, its potential and distinctive character. The other Protheans need not know.”

Shepard tilted her head. That was not making sense. “Won't they notice anyway, when they rummage through my head?”

“Not necessarily,” Javik said. “They will simply assume that they perceive everything you know in their language because everything else is unthinkable. It will be their own doing, not yours.”

“What good will understanding the do me?”

“Only time will tell.”

Shepard wondered if she could make him beg. Javik looked as if this was important to him for whatever reasons. The idea was appealing, almost as appealing as having him back off. He didn't look as if he would, though. Shepard had learnt enough about him in the last months to know that much.

Damned. How she wished she was still unable to read his moods. Being cooped up with Javik was not good for her. He was a constant reminder of al she had lost and how she had lost it in one. The embodied entanglements of her yearnings for home and reason she had lost it forever. But in the end, what did it matter? One way or the other, why should she care? And he would leave her alone. She held up her hands in resignation. “Whatever.”

When his fingers closed around hers, Shepard closed her eyes automatically, bracing for impact. But nothing happened. She waited in tense anticipation, but the pain did not come. Prying one eye open, she peered at Javik who seemed to regard her calmly.

“Remember Eden Prime,” he repeated. But it was not English.

Shepard knew that the way she knew the sky was blue. Well, usually. The language was foreign to her, the words new and boxed in bulky grammar and strange syntax. Still she understood. Because that was what Javik had taught her, somehow. Without her even noticing. She sorted through her head.

There it was, the language of the Protheans. Stored away neatly and interfaced with her mother tongue already. She blinked. “The sky is blue over Eden Prime.” It wasn't English either.

Javik nodded and let go of her. “I will not speak to you in this language unless you want me to.”

“Why would I want to talk to you?”

“Those reasons will be yours alone,” he replied. “It is up to you to share them or keep them. As are mine.”

“Why do you want to talk to me, Javik?” Shepard couldn't help asking, not sure if she hoped to hurt, or embarrass him.

“Because I hope.” He stopped short. “You were a friend to me in your cycle. A good one and for no selfish reasons.”

“Yeah, and you betrayed me.”

“That is why I hope, Shepard. There have never been many friends in my life and I feel the loss of each.”

He'd better. He'd deserve every bloody moment of it. “Make new friends here. They suit you better.”

“I cannot undo what I have done now,” Javik said. “And if you think that my motives are not altogether selfless, you are correct. But I will offer to be a friend for you here when I can find nobody else to fill the place.”

“I will find somebody,” Shepard said. “As soon as your friends let me out and move among other species. Species less stuck up and snobby.”

“Do you still believe they will do that?” There was a tone of pity in Javik's voice that Shepard didn't care for at all. “You are necessary to activate the Crucible when the Reapers attack. Beyond that, your fate is anybody's guess. This is why you need to pay more attention. Find ways for yourself. I can only protect you so much.”

The thought of Javik protecting her, almost made her laugh into his face. He was so serious when he said it too.

“I have been walking the society behind that door,” he continued. “It is not a place you should be in on your own. They will tolerate you as long as you have a purpose.”

“Well, get a house and keep me as a pet,” Shepard scoffed.

“I am trying.” He was dead serious. “Unless you'd rather end up in a scientific facility after destroying the Reapers.”

“I get the feeling that it is not going to be a pleasant stay.”

“Unless you enjoy being read, tested and re-read, no it will not,” Javik said. “And being the personal trophy of any Prothean may not be more enjoyable.”

Shepard shuddered. The human trophy, the one that activated the catalyst. Come and read while she is still sane enough to remember. “Maybe I'll just go ahead and destroy the Crucible when I'm at it.”

“Do not ever say that aloud.” Javik stopped himself short before grabbing her arms. “Do not even think about it.”

“Why not?” She hugged herself. “What will they do?”

“They will try to change your mind.” He didn't have to say more. “I will do what I can. Believe me or don't.”

“Why don't you just ask Ajina? She's high up the food chain and she likes you.”

Javik didn't reply immediately. “She is in command, that is true. I would not call her a friend, though. Ajina gets what she wants. She knows nothing else and her eyes are very compelling.”

Well so much for that. Shepard watched as Javik straightened up and surprisingly enough vanished into his own sleeping area. Obviously, this conversation was over. Good. Putting her head on her knees, she rummaged through the Prothean language on a revenge spree.

It wasn't easy understanding the Protheans around her and not showing it. Shepard had never really wondered what they kept on blabbering about, but being a constant target of disparaging remarks had not been it. Whoever came to rent her out for a while, that was the word they used, she got rented out like a speeder!

And the customers didn't care much about the state she was in when collected or returned. The most basic directions were immediately emphasised with a push, physical and mental. There was no chance to start learning the language, as if they didn't expect her to ever grasp the concept. Shepard had to admit, it would have taken her a while. Prothean grammar was as severe as the whole race.

I don't see what all the talk is about. What a waste of time. Much too primitive to enjoy any of it. Have you seen the turians? I can't believe the salarians evolved that far. How did they get so far from living in caves. They didn't get far at all. How primitive a way to communicate.

The commentary never ended, not even after Shepard had returned to her room. She was hearing voices in her head. But unfortunately, that didn't mean she was crazy. So far she was horribly sane and knew exactly how baldy her mind was affected. Madness would have been nice.

“They won't allow it to happen.” Javik looked at her over a shared meal. “They need you alive and sane to stop the invasion.”

At least the Protheans believed the Reapers were coming. Sometimes Shepard wished her own people had done that. Her own people, people that would never be. Which meant they couldn't worry about her. Small favours. To know her friends didn't have to suffer. As long as she forgot how they would never live.

“I don't think I can do this much longer.” The words of David Archer echoed in her mind. Make it stop. It was an appealing thought. Just make everything stop. Forever. “I don't want to.”

“The Crucible is almost finished and the reapers will invade the Citadel soon.” He sneered. “Or they will try. The override my people devised will keep the Citadel safe.”

Which meant a few more days of respite until the Reapers arrived at the Alpha Relay. “Just a little longer.”

“You can do it, Shepard,” Javik said. “I know you and you are stronger than this.”

If I still had my team, my friends, anybody I care for. Shepard didn't say that. Strength only got you that far. You needed to stand together with somebody, fight for something. In her cycle Javik still had had his purpose. She had none, only what the Protheans assigned her. “I don't want to.”

“You are not alone. And as long as there is life in you, there is hope.”

She didn't know where those motivational speeches came from. Admittedly, Javik had a lot to win from her staying up long enough to fulfil her destiny. Seeing how the other Protheans handled her, she would have expected him to adapt to that, though. Adapt to their behaviour to blend it. There seemed to be a certain amount of problems with that.

Maybe it was because they were alone and nobody saw. He could be kind now and show another face when his people were around. Not that he ever seemed to be there when she was on field trips around the planet. Kajenat, that was its name. The hub of Prothean science and development. A planet that had been destroyed completely during the Reaper invasion. At least that was the information Javik had.

What was it like for him to see it now, in full bloom? Sometimes Shepard wondered. But she didn't ask. He could hold all the uplifting speeches he wanted. He was the reason she was in this mess and she would not forget it. She was not stonewalling him all the way any longer though. He was the only one around actually talking to her, even if she had nothing to say.

The only information about the outside world came from Javik, too. The Protheans digging around in her memories didn't let anything slip. There was nothing for her to read. Not that she could read Prothean letters. Something Javik would likely amend if asked. But she didn't ask.

Silence stood between them like armour. Shepard liked it that way. And if now and then she lifted her visor for a small exchange – no one was an island. Not matter how hard they tried. And Javik was getting a real knack for knowing when to leave her alone and when approaching her would work. She didn't have to be alone, but if Javik was her only option, what kind of choice was that even?

It was choosing the lesser of two evils. Shepard was once again curled up behind the table, holding on to the coherence of her own history with a vengeance. The intrusions had increased lately, as if rearranging the inside of her mind was a sport. How much can we change the primitive before it falls apart? As if she wasn't needed any more. It was a happy thought, that in their hubris the Protheans killed her and were in return wiped out by the Reapers. It made her smile. If she was still herself.

The door opened and she knew it was Javik when the footfall came to a halt a yard from her. She peered up, blinking against the hard blue light outlining the familiar figure. He still looked odd to her in those cream coloured robes. The bearings were all wrong. He had been raised to live in armour and he had done it justice. From a certain point of view. The robe made him look dressed up, almost silly, and vulnerable. She shook the thoughts off and rested her forehead on her knees again.

“I have to leave for a while.” He didn't crouch down as usual. Probably more Protheans watching from the door. “Ajina has decided I need to go to the Citadel and help with its fortification against the Reapers.”

That was bullshit. Looking up again, Shepard realised that he knew that. “How long?”

“As long as it takes.” He looked grim. “Take good care of yourself.”

It was a warning and all her bells rang. This was about her as much as it was about him. They were being separated. Shepard wasn't sure for what reason, but it couldn't be good. Her last encounters with other Protheans had escalated. What if there was nobody left to remind her of who she was? What, if she was really to be all alone among monsters?

“Don't go!” Shepard scrambled to her feet. “You betrayed me. And I hate you. But you're the only one here who doesn't treat me like a meat-covered hard drive. Don't leave me.”

Javik took a step towards her. “Do you think I have a choice?”

Shepard closed her eyes for a moment, pressing her lips together hard. She tried to look up without falling apart, taking a scattered breath. “No.”

“I am sorry.” He put a hand on her shoulder. “I will be back.”

There were no images crawling through the touch, no information, no experiences. Just sadness, underlaid with the wish to comfort but having none to offer. Shepard nodded. “Okay.”

He squeezed her shoulder gently, nodding in affirmation before turning to leave.

Shepard watched the door close behind him. Still trying to shake the rising burst of frustrated tears, she slumped back to the floor again. There was nothing for her to do but wait. Staring at her hands, she wondered how long it would take.

Not long at all. The answer stepped through her door a few minutes later in the form of three Protheans.

“Disgusting,” their leader said. “Enough that we had to gain information like that from this thing, but this?”

“For the Empire,” one of his guards said, taking up position to her right her while the other stepped to her left side in silence. “We need her on our side if she is to destroy the Reapers.”

On their side? Shepard blinked, turning her head from one to the other alarmed.

“For the Empire,” the leader agreed.

As if on an inaudible signal, the hands of the guards closed around her arms, pulling her up. Their minds clamped into hers at the same time, drilling through her thoughts, carelessly hammering square pegs through round holes.

“It can't be that difficult,” the leader said, reaching for her face with his hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stand hardened in resigned resistance  
> Nothing matters no one cares  
> Strength is more than winning battles  
> Strength is honour, trust and faith.


	3. Realisation

It didn't make sense to bring him to the Citadel. Javik knew that much. But whatever the real reasons were, Ajina did not tell. Instead he walked around, showing them the places where the Reapers had arrived, investigating the main control room.

The Citadel was different. Apart from the fact that there were no primitives around. There were only lesser species that called themselves Prothean, but got treated like, well, lesser species. And though he did not like to admit it, like him. He suspected that the main reason for bringing him here was to separate him from Shepard. Something he could confirm only after returning to Kajenat. Another reason showed itself soon enough and was to invite him to commit suicide. Not the obvious kind like jumping off one of the tall buildings or drowning in the water reservoirs.

There were more subtle attempts, setting him up for social faux pas, to forfeit his status by breaking unspoken rules nobody bothered to explain to him. The strong, the quick-minded, the fast – they survived. It was the Cosmic Imperative. But he had been trained to be an Emperor in his time. He was the one who would restore the Prothean Empire. And Empire much different from this one. An Empire, these Protheans sneered at.

It didn't matter that his civilisation had withstood the Reapers for centuries. It was weaker than the Prothean civilisation in its prime and as such, worth nothing. He was worth nothing. It was a new and unpleasant experience. He had gone through his whole life being on the other end of this equation, never questioning it. The strong became stronger by dominating the weak. It was a convincing doctrine and a convenient way of life. If you were strong.

And he was strong, the strongest, best soldier of his time. Chosen to lead the New Empire, ready to do so and able. It did not matter here. The war was a hypothesis. The Reapers a threat that would easily be defeated thanks to Prothean ingenuity. It did not matter that the minds coming up with this were yet to be born; that they, too, would be of the 'lesser' kind as he was.

The control room was at the centre of the Citadel and his people had chosen it to serve as the conference and audience chamber of their Regnancy. Not that the five ruling Protheans would be anywhere near when the savage time traveller arrived. Ajina was the closest he would ever get to that. And her disdain was slowly winning out over her curiosity.

Balconies circled the central chamber on which a podium had been raised at the end of a narrow walkway. Under the see-though floor a garden was in full bloom. A metaphor hard to miss. The balconies were packed, the rustling of cloth betrayed the onlookers, even if they did not venture towards the front where they might be seen.

It was a spectacle. He was a spectacle. Javik ignored the low murmur as he strode towards the centre of the glass floor. He suppressed the signals of his grim glee when he realised that the dais for the Regnancy was built directly on top of the control panel.

“Can the podium be removed?” He asked Laney, his assigned guide and watchdog.

The other almost took a step backwards in shock. The mere thought, the outrage! “Certainly not.”

“As you say.” Javik didn't know if he could raise the central controls; he sure hoped so. The effect might be spectacular. Even if it brought him one step closer to ceremonial execution. He closed his eyes and carefully went through Shepard's memories. It was wrong to possess so many of them, most of them taken without her knowing or noticing. Another of those things he had taken for granted.

But it had spared him the need to go through her mind once again here. Back in her cycle, Shepard had not been secretive about her knowledge. There had been nothing to hide, nobody to hide from. She had been among friends. And so had he. Something she needn't know.

The console had been up already when Shepard had arrived. But given the ability to peruse her memories at leisure, he could find the trigger to get it up. It was not even hidden. I didn't take a Prothean to use it either. As the Crucible had been built and improved over time by countless civilisations, so had the Citadel.

A grinding noise heralded the rise of the central control. To Javik's satisfaction, the panel did not stop or slow down despite the dais. It was even more satisfactory to watch the seat of Prothean Regnancy splinter to pieces as the control panel smashed through it, built from stronger materials than used to represent the Empire.

Laney made an exasperated sound before stopping himself. There was no way he could blame that one on Javik. He had asked beforehand. A look down also showed a hole gaping in the garden below. Earth and roots were scattered over the neatly laid stones and had damaged many of the delicate flowers.

“There is a slot here into which the override is inserted.” Javik approached the console.

“Step back.” Laney emphasised the order with a hand on Javik's shoulder and a mental command.

It was another nuisance. To be treated like a lesser species, in need of constant control and reminders of dominance, unable to get something important right on their own. He was Prothean, a hardened, perfected in his supremacy through constant war, fighting, and loss. He was stronger than any of these premature incarnations of imagines power.

None of them was able to breach his shields any longer. Javik wanted to snort in contempt. Instead he complied. It was no good to let them know all his strength. Even Ajina had not ferreted it out of him though not for lack of trying. It was her assumption that she knew how capable he could be that was her downfall.

It was the flaw of the whole species and it hurt to know they were his own. This hubris had cost them dearly in the Metacon War. It had obviously cost them the victory over the Reapers as well. He had hoped to avert that. He actually had. Looking at Laney stepping towards the console with the air of a proprietor, Javik doubted his decision.

It would have been different if it had been Jolen, Sifad, Thorik, Kalee, Meyon, Wial, any of his own troops. They were his people, his kind, his responsibility. They were the pinnacle of Prothean evolution, tempered and perfected by their fight against the Reapers. They were meant to be the Vanguard of the Protheans in the next cycle, the strongest they had ever been, worthy to survive the extinction and raise from the ashes to build a new Empire.

A strong Empire founded on the experience and the sacrifice of trillions. Protheans that had earned their place at the top of civilisation. Right now, all the Protheans did was elevate species just enough to be useful, never creating a true opponent. They prided themselves in defeating the weak, dominating their own creations. There was no strength or honour in that.

Still, Laney inserted the override as if he had devised it himself. As if it had been wholly his actions that led to this point, taking all the credit. Because he was the strongest one here and that was how things worked. It occurred to Javik that the participation of many weak individuals was nipped in the bud because they could never profit from it anyway.

After seeing what the Reapers had done to the galaxy, it looked like an awful waste. It was an awful waste. But there was nothing right now that he could do. And that was the point. Right now. Javik followed Laney, listened to his report to Ajina who would hand it on up the chain of command. And each time the lower ranks got less credit. The system worked.

“Was there something else?” Laney's tone made it clear that there better not be.

“One more thing, a simple safeguard,” Javik said ignoring the glare. “The time travel project was a success. It would be a sensible precaution to keep it up just in case.”

“We will not fail,” Laney replied. “Other uses are discussed but you need not concern yourself with that.”

“Will we?” Javik insisted. “I have known the Shepard human for some time. She is not in a good place.”

“We will keep that in mind.” Laney closed the matter with a curt gesture.

If he did, Laney did not mention it again. Maybe Javik had miscalculated. Maybe Shepard was not as strong as he believed and had submitted to whatever treatment they had in store for her. Maybe the Regency thought human involvement unnecessary after all and planned to use the Crucible without her.

Meanwhile the Mass Relay statue was erected anticipation the connection of the Citadel to Ilos. It was decided to move the scientific centre there long term. If the bedraggled scientists of a falling Empire had managed to unravel the workings of the Mass Relays, so could they. It was only natural that the later generation of war-ridden assistants had only found a way to recreate the effect on a small scale.

Javik had managed not to get into lethal duels a few times, not to drop into one of the protein vats and several other high altitude walks along paths for which rails were obviously deemed unnecessary. Laney was lenient about it, after all it was not as if anybody wanted Javik dead. Still, unfortunate accidents did happen.

They didn't happen to him, though and as suddenly as the trip had started, it was over again. They returned to Kajenat without explanation and Laney disappeared as soon as the shuttle set down. Ajina expected him, her expression grim.

“Your absence has been noted.” There was not even time for a greeting.

Javik inclined his head. “The reasons for my leave have been judged more important.”

“Your exploits have been reported.” Since he had gone to the Citadel on her command there was not much she could do out in the open. “The depth of your knowledge has been overrated.”

Since that was also a mistake she had made, Javik accepted it. Ajina would pass the responsibility on to one of her subordinates. No harm done. “My purpose is to destroy the Reapers,”he replied. “I will do what I must to achieve that.”

“Indeed.” There was contempt in her voice. Defeating the Reapers did not look like a daunting task if you had the perfect weapon ready. “Then I have a new task for you.”

Unsurprisingly, they returned to the room he shared with Shepard. And when the door opened he understood. It was not his actions that had saved him, it had been theirs. Shepard sat in the corner behind the table. That was nothing new. She had her knees pulled up, her arms around them. That, also, was a common sight. Her eyes, though, were empty, staring ahead into the air, looking at nothing, seeing nothing. He moved a hand before her face.

“Fix that,” Ajina ordered. “You know how.”

“I do.” He looked a the heap of human.

“Good.” The door closed behind him.

So they had fucked up. The almighty Protheans, unable to conquer a simple human's mind. Maybe he should have been more delighted about this. But again, it had not been his actions that saved him. And there was no guarantee there was anything left to save here.

“Shepard.” Javik crouched down beside the woman. She looked up and there were no signs of violence on her, no bruises, no blood. But her eyes were empty, looking at him without recognising, seeing only the Prothean before her and recoiling. But she didn't move. Her hands didn't come up in a defensive or even protective gesture. When he reached out, her eyes widened and she tensed but that was it. No resistance to speak of.

“I am sorry, Commander.” He laid his hands against her face, trying to gauge the state her mind was in. It did not look good. Whoever had tried to convince her that the Protheans were her true saviours and worthy of all her love and devotion had done a shoddy job. Half a thought about the make-up of her mind would have suggested a different approach.

Hubris. It had been the downfall of them. It would be their downfall again. These Protheans had not been up against a real challenge for far too long. For all their pride and bluster, they were weak. And soon enough, they would realise it. Javik took a deep breath, concentrating on the task at hand.

Shepard's mind was a bloody mess. The new thoughts and emotions had been inserted with complete disregard for the workings of a human mind. It was like blocks of cement carelessly rammed into jelly. Even the tracks were clearly visible, trailing pieces of broken thoughts, fragments of memory.

Taking the new pieces out would help, but it was tedious and the damage was done. Only time would tell if the fractured material would heal. If Shepard would still enough of herself. Scraping the mental bullets out of her thoughts was also exhausting. Bits of her mind clung to them, almost successfully melding her mind with the intended content.

But there was progress. Somewhere down the line, she blinked rapidly, trying to escape his hold. But the wall was directly behind her. And as quickly as the resistance had flared up, it was gone again. Javik finished his work meticulously. Still, her mind looked like a jelly that had had an intimate encounter with a shotgun. He sat back on his heels.

Shepard blinked slowly. If she realise who he was, she gave no sign. But her eyes were not completely flat any longer. There was hope. Probably. He had no use for a human vegetable. Javik stood up and took a few steps backwards.

The woman staggered and tried to stand up on shaky legs. Prothean mind workers had obviously tried to affect more than just her higher functions. This would not work. She flinched back, almost falling when he reached to steady her. Javik watched her progress for a while. It was no good. Using his biotics to steer her towards bed was a fiddly job. So far he had used those powers only to destroy.

Finally, Shepard was lying down. Javik took another of the thin sheets meant to be worn as a robe to cover her. There was no reaction. He added another two sheets to provide the illusion of a blanket. Still nothing. She lay on her back, arms at her sides, staring at the ceiling. Javik watched her for a while, waiting for her to change position or close her eyes. Nothing happened.

“Apologies, Commander.” Javik reached out, pressing his thumb down between her eyes, sending her into a deep sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And you who did not heed the silence,  
> Heed the beating of your heart.  
> You can't force a price on living  
> Though the gods know you have tried.


	4. Redemption

Everything was foggy. Even the hard bed under her was fuzzy, ragged at the edges, sharing an unclear border with her body. And her head hurt. Shepard reached for her temples, rubbing them gently. It didn't help. As if her fingers sank into her skull, stirring the brain which didn't have nerves to feel pain or anything for that matter.

She sat up, looking around. It was still the same small room, the same hard blue light, the same, well no. There were three sheets draped over her and she was lying on the blanket. Somebody had taken care. Somewhat.

Shepard couldn't remember getting to bed. The last she remembered was Protheans. She put her head in her hands. Protheans holding on to her body and mind, showing her things. No, wanting to make her believe things, feel things. Things not her own. Thoughts not her own, foreign memories, strange emotions. Even in fractured retrospect it was a nightmare.

She poked her mind carefully. There seemed to be no foreign memory in it, no strange emotion or new attitude. She wasn't sure though, because she felt fractured, bits that didn't connect when she felt certain they should. Images hanging suspended in clumps of memory. Knowledge dislodged and attached to unrelated realities.

Everything was broken. The thread of her like was tangled, knotted and she was afraid that some of the knots kept it together and should not be unravelled. It was hard to tell which was which. But the light was wrong and she didn't belong and something had to be done. Shepard looked around. What was it she had been about to do? She couldn't remember.

There was a knock at the door and Javik opened it not much later. He did not enter the room. “How do you feel, Commander?”

Shepard felt ready to lie back and sleep until the world's end. It was right that he called her that, it was wrong that he should dare, it shouldn't hurt. But everything hurt, so what did she expect? “I don't know.”

“They tried to indoctrinate you but their methods were crude.” He snorted. “Even a child of my time would have done better. They are too conceited to adapt.”

 _They. Not we. Commander._ Shepard shook her head. Her brain sloshed around in her skull. “What, how, the result?”

“They succeeded in rupturing your mind and memories, shutting down most of you cognitive functions. I doubt that had been their intention though.”

“Yeah.” She could guess what their intention had been. But how had they expected her to submit to such obvious lies? These Protheans were not her friends, not her allies, not worth saving. They had tried to convince her, but how could violence achieve that? And messing up her mind did not help their cause.

But they hadn't realised that. As Javik said, they were too sure of themselves, too sure of being right to change the least. So how had she ended up on her bunk with a headache? She looked at the Prothean standing in her door. “You did that?”

“The best I could, Commander,” he replied. “I cannot tell how much of the damage will be permanent. I have not been a mind worker in my cycle. No Prothean knows much about how human minds work.”

“And you are their expert.” Shepard began to understand.

“Indeed. I have been sent to get you back into shape. A task I will gladly undertake.” He hesitated. “For my own reasons.”

Shepard wondered whether she wanted to know what reasons those were. But she was hungry and thirsty. She got up, staggering a little before catching herself. Javik made place to let her through, keeping his distance as she grabbed some breakfast and sought shelter behind the table.

Javik sat down at the furthest place from her. “It is true that Ajina wants me to influence you so you will destroy the Reapers when the Crucible is ready. I would like for her to believe I managed to do that. Or at least tricked you into believing me.”

“Believing you?” Shepard snorted. “Why would I?”

“Because I am the only person here you know. Because I am the only one treating you like a person. Because I gave you hope to escape when there is none.”

“And how would you go about that?”

A sly smile stole onto Javik's face. “I would like to double-cross them.”

“And I am to believe you because?” Shepard held on to her water with both hands. Hope was a mean force, it flared up for no reason and was impossible to tame. Ajina had been right to put Javik to this task. Maybe she would let him believe it worked. If it granted her mind some peace, it would be worth it.

“You don't,” Javik said into her musings. “I do not expect you to trust me. Do this for whatever reasons you find. And there is no hope as yet. You will have to create that yourself.”

“Very likely.”

“If you play along, Commander, it should not take too long.” Javik's grin showed too many teeth and the underlying malevolence that made her shiver. “After all, your mind has been severely afflicted. It will take more than undoing the Prothean intrusions to get you to cooperate. The only thing that will enkindle your spirits back to their old fire will be the hope to return home.”

“There is no hope, Javik.” Shepard sighed.

“The time travel project has been revived.”

“They will never let me near it.”

“On the contrary,” Javik said. “They will allow you to reach it, use it and believe you are back home to destroy the Reapers. And you will be.”

“Why?” Her interest was piqued, but it was still Javik she was talking to. Still a traitor who had voiced his opinions on traitors loudly and vehemently. Not to be trusted, certainly not if they were ready to betray their own kind.

“Because this hope will make you the tool they need again. They need not know that the real intention is to indeed get you back home. Let them believe I will trick you again and that you will fall for it again if given enough time.”

“It does have one drawback, though,” Shepard replied. “I would have to trust you.”

“Only in that I will get you home, Commander.” He looked at her for a long moment. “I understand you cannot trust me again, maybe not ever. I accept that. But it doesn't mean I won't make it up to you and bring you home.”

Why? It was the one question filling her head. Why? Why would he do that? What had happened? And how far did she dare work with him? She looked at the yellow eyes with their double black pupils.

“Do not reply now,” Javik went on. “Do not show signs of recuperation. Take it very, very slow. It will buy you time. I will support you in that.”

“Won't they expect you to,” Shepard wriggled her fingers at her temples, “you know.”

“They certainly will. But,” he showed his teeth again, “you are traumatised, Commander. It will take time until you trust me enough to allow that.”

That was surprisingly convenient. For everybody except the Protheans. Even if she never trusted Javik with the inside of her head again. Which was likely. He could probably fake it. “You can fake that, right?”

“If you insist.” He sounded reluctant. “I would prefer to keep an eye on the healing process, though.”

“Over my dead body.”

“That might happen.”

Well, then she'd die. Not that Shepard believed for a second the Protheans would allow that. So she should be safe. Provided the reanimation attempts of the other Protheans were kinder than whatever Javik would come up with. Which was questionable. “Why tell me all that? Do you really think I will believe you?”

“It doesn't matter.” Javik got up. “You will have time to recuperate and that will be enough for now. Think about it. That is all.” He left her alone, closing his door behind him.

It took Shepard some time to believe she would be left alone. Javik spent time with her every day, mostly doing nothing, just pretending to be in some kind of rapport with her. It was eerie. But it seemed to work. Now and then he'd leave, probably discussing the progress with Ajina.

Not that there was much to report. Her head started to feel normal again, her limbs obeyed without questioning her commands. It was nice to just stand up and not readjust to gravity for a second. With the memories pain of a different sort returned. Not for the first time Shepard regretted encouraging Javik to use the Echo Shard bitterly.

The sky over Eden prime was blue, but so was the sky above Earth. A place that would never know Kaidan or Anderson if she didn't somehow make things right. And even if she did, both might just die there.

And that was where hope set in. Javik knew exactly what he was doing. He had always been a clever manipulator. It was obvious in retrospect. How he had deflected the questions put to him, knowing exactly what tangent to set everybody onto. How much had he read through the Normandy that tied them all together?

So now this was for her. A glimmer of hope that she could go home. That he would manipulate the other Protheans into believing she was actually doing their bidding. Tricking them into letting her use the time travel device. It was the faintest of hopes. Naturally, it was impossible to quench.

“What if there is not enough of me left?” It was a question she didn't know how to answer. And if she understood the Crucible correctly, everything hinged on that.

“I don't know, Commander.” Javik was sitting on the other side of the table. Always on the other side, but by now always right in front of her.

“How can I even know I am still me? Those Protheans messed up my whole mind. What if the important bits have been rearranged or destroyed?” Shepard had no idea how to even realise she was missing a memory. How did you know you didn't remember something any longer? It was impossible.

“Your personality looks good,” Javik tried to calm her. “I cannot make any detailed assessment without you allowing me to read you.”

She had to _allow_ it. For days and days Shepard had gone without being touched. It was amazing, like heaven on earth. She never wanted it to end.

“I can do a crude reading through the partition if you'd prefer,” Javik offered.

How could she forget about that? “Why don't you just read me when I sleep?” Shepard hissed.

“I will not do anything to you without your consent,” he replied unfazed. “You may not believe it. That doesn't make it untrue.”

Right. Right? Whatever. Standing with her back against the thin board partitioning off the bathroom felt silly. But if it worked. And he did not touch her. Shepard closed her eyes and tried to relax. What was the worst that could happen? No, she didn't want to know. She had been there and it had been horrible.

“I will read you now,” Javik called from the other side.

“Okay.” It wasn't as loud as intended. It had to do.

Nothing happened. No pressure on her mind, no feeler trickling through her memories, nothing poking needles into her thoughts or pinching at images. Shepard waited. How long would this take? And maybe she should have asked in advance how well he remembered her old self. Did he have a map of her mind stored away in his head? And how had he gotten that? She didn't remember handing that over.

“I am done, Commander.” Javik returned to the main room. “You are healing well. There are a few changes, though. Memories grown together incorrectly, associations tangled, that kind of thing. I could correct it if you want to.”

“You can do that?” Shepard tried to take a step backwards. Her back came up against the wall. Though Javik did not move, she fled behind the dubious cover of the table.

“Not all of it, I would think,” Javik conceded. “But much of it. It is your choice, Commander.”

Her choice. To let Javik meddle with her mind again. Not that she had been in any condition to consent the last time. Not that she would have objected, seeing what the other Protheans had done. How bad could it be? What if he had already re-wired her into thinking it would be okay? How would she know what he changed? He might just slowly turn her into a Prothean tool.

But she would notice that, wouldn't she? Nobody could be that sneaky. She could always make a note to herself and store it somewhere. And what was the alternative? She could be scared forever. Now that was not an option. She was Commander Shepard. Whatever that meant here.

“Do it.” She closed her eyes, bracing herself against the tabletop.

“As you wish.” She heard Javik move and then his hands gently settled on her face. Shepard tried not to flinch or jerk away, barely suppressing the impulse to run. Her body tensed. Her head shook, fluttering like a bid between Javik's fingers. But he didn't move.

And nothing happened. After a while, Shepard cracked open an eye to find Javik looking at her. He didn't say a word, just kept his palms against her cheeks. Waiting. Shepard didn't know for what. Her breath hitched and a muscle in her left shoulder cramped. It took some concentration to just breathe. The yellow-eyed stare was disconcerting.

“You have to relax, Commander.” His voice trembled between them.

Well, that wasn't going to be easy. A Prothean face hovering before her and three-fingered hands clamped around her face were not reassuring. Quite the opposite. But so far nothing had happened. Shepard felt the warmth of his palms against her cheeks. Their grip was firm, but yielded enough to sudden movements that it didn't hurt.

“I will not attempt to even read your mind while it is in such turmoil,” Javik went on. “Do you want to postpone this?”

Shepard looked at the alien face before her. Alien and still so familiar. Memories were attached to it that had nothing to do with the horror of this place. Memories of a different time, a different Shepard. And what would she say, if she could see her now? Scared, broken, useless. A prisoner to her own fears. No.

Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath. “Do it.”

She knew she could never be the person she had been before coming to Kajenat. That person was dead, dead and dissected by too many alien minds. Nothing could be done about that. This was her best shot. Even if Javik meddled with her mind, subtly changed who she was.

“I would never do that, Commander.”

She wasn't who she had been anyway. What did a little more or less similarity matter?

“It may be the difference between our destruction by the Reapers or victory.”

But if that was true, it was also true for this cycle. Becoming herself again would benefit the Protheans as well.

“Which is why they allow it.” Javik's voice seemed to come from insider her head. “I will start now.”

There was a gentle pressure against her mind, a warm searching as if looking for ticks in the fur of a pet. Shepard concentrated on breathing regularly and not opening her eyes. Things went okay so far, but looking at a Prothean while he messed up her head, even if he claimed not to- She thought of the great tangled mess of her memories, all the knots and loose ends.

Javik's image was different, as far as she caught it, more yielding, flexible and easier to manipulate. It probably came with being a Prothean. And she didn't notice the change until it was a done deed. Like being cut with a razor and only realising there was a wound when it had already been tended to, wrapped up and medicated. Still, she inhaled sharply.

“Can I go on, Commander?” The question hovered behind her eyes.

“Do it.” The words were still lodged under her tongue, easy to retrieve.

Shepard tasted their afterglow as she closed her eyes again. Easier not to see. Just breathe. Nothing lasted forever. The pinpricks of needle feet scurrying through her mind were accented by random incisions. The pattern was like the net of a caffeineated spider.

“It is done, Commander.” He face was suddenly cold, her head almost to heavy to hold up. “You should rest.”

Nodding didn't seem like a splendid idea so Shepard didn't try. Instead she got up and just left. Lying down felt glorious. She half sank into the hard bunk, the blanket a tangled pile of cotton candy floating over her body. Maybe this had not been such a good idea after all. She felt disconnected.

The darkness abated slowly. It took Shepard several attempts to actually blink. Then she removed the sleep form her eyes, opening them. She actually felt okay. Though she knew there would be no physical change, she patted down her head. The hair was getting long.

Javik was up and pacing. He stopped momentarily when she entered the room, picking up speed again once she had taken shelter behind the desk with something to eat. “They are pushing,” he said as he passed by the table. “The calculated day of the arrival of the Reapers is drawing close. They fear you won't be ready.”

“Oh, I'll be ready.” Shepard took a sip of water.

Javik stopped and looked at her closely. “How do you feel, Commander?”

Shepard thought about that for a moment. “Good, actually. Is that your doing?”

“If it was that easy, don't you think I would have done it earlier?”

“I wouldn't have let you.”

“You would not have had a choice.” Javik sat down, not taking his eyes off her. “But you cannot wire a mind to happiness. Believe me, the Protheans did try.”

And why not? It was one of the best things Shepard could think of you could do with such power. Make people happy. Naturally her mind immediately came up with seven ways that even this could be abused horribly. “Why not?” She finally asked.

“What makes you happy, Commander?”

Well, asked like that, Shepard grimaced. There certainly were ingredients to what made her happy, but circumstances alone did not work.

“It is a delicate mix with many unreliable components. Change but one a little and you have despair.” Javik closed his eyes for a moment. “Scientists tried to develop the experiential exchange into a weapon against the Reapers. They all went mad and died within seconds after touching one.”

So she was probably not indoctrinated to feel better. Manipulated, maybe. But if you took a very fine comb, any kind of socialisation was a kind of manipulation, maybe even indoctrination. That line of thought would get her nowhere. Shepard rubbed a temple absently.

“You are changing topic again,” she said. “And I do notice, in case you wondered.”

“Still you never intervened.”

It hadn't seemed to be worth it back then. Back in a future where killing people with your brain was only a metaphor. What had it mattered that Javik didn't want to talk about some aspects of his life? He had the right to hurt and turn inwards for solace. Shepard wondered if he had found any there.

“How was I to know that I might need the information one day? Had I known, I might just have had you strapped up somewhere for some interrogation.” Shepard sighed. If she had done that, if she had never made the effort to befriend Javik, if he had never bothered to respond to it... It didn't matter. “It's too late for that now.”

“You understand that you can just ask those questions, Shepard?” Javik wanted to know.

“If I ever want an answer from you again, I'll let you know.”

“As you wish.” He shrugged it off. “It is good to see you become more of your old self again.”

Shepard wasn't so sure about that. Her old self had been awfully trusting. Especially Javik. A mistake she didn't plane to repeat. “And you believe they will notice?” She snorted.

“Of course not,” Javik said. “But they will trust my assessment when they see it.”

In a way, Shepard felt almost sorry for Javik. Now that her head was off limits, it was his that got prodded and poked. He had said that he was able to shield himself sufficiently, but it had to be difficult to do that and at the same time appear to be perfectly approachable. Not her head, not her problem.

Though maybe it would be. In case Javik's defences were not as strong as he thought, or was made to think. In a world where every thought could have been engineered, what did you lean on? What did you do, if you couldn't even trust yourself?

“Shepard, Commander, are you listening?” Javik's voice broke into her thoughts. “Ajina gets impatient. She needs to see signs of your recovery.”

“What did you have in mind?”

“When was the last time you have exercised?”

Well, put like that. “Too long, I guess. And if I thought about breaking out, a little physical fitness would be nice.” She stop herself before adding 'good thinking' to that. But it was and she would probably have to run and fight some, if the set-up was to be credible.

It still gave her headaches. She thought she was making a run for it. The Protheans thought she was tricked into making a run for it. And Javik told each side the outcome would be as desired. Unlike the Protheans, Shepard could not dig her claws into Javik's mind though. Consider your options, she told herself. And if the worst came to pass, she would find a way to wipe out the whole bloody civilisation. Even if the lesser species probably didn't deserve it.

“How can I exercise when I don't get out of here?”

“I will arrange for that, Commander.” A nasty smile crept onto his face.

And he did. Shepard found herself outside not a day later. Watched by several Prothean guards in a walled-in tiny park-wannabe but outside. The guards were looking out more than at her, too. Probably meant to prevent anybody from stealing the prize rather than keeping her from running.

At first the exercises felt ridiculous. She hadn't done that for ages. Well, almost. She had been following a regimen in Vancouver. It had killed the time and James had been good company. He bragged too much about his pull-ups. He'd probably laugh until he cried if he saw her now, noodle-armed and short of breath.

Shepard realised that she wouldn't be in much of a shape if they made a break for it soon. But even she could feel the tension. It crackled through the air, and tugged at the rigid posture of the guards. Something was coming, something big. She really didn't want to be around when it happened.

“We won't, Commander.” Javik was once again sitting across the table from her. “The time travelling device is ready. We only have to wait for the opening.”

“They are on it already?” Shepard wanted to know.

“Planning it, yes. They are timing the incident meticulously, just waiting for word from the Citadel. The Reapers will have to have arrived, but not had a chance yet to destroy too much.”

“Sounds finicky. And we won't get an advance warning.” Shepard sighed.

“You will have to be ready.” Javik pushed a cylindrical object over the table. “Take this with you wherever you go. It is the equivalent of a heat sink. You will need it.

“I think I would also need a weapon.” Her voice dripped with sarcasm.

“That is correct. But we will take those from the guards. I expect their heat sinks to be manipulated though and you cannot carry the extra weight of multiple weapons.” He blinked slowly. “They want it to look real. They might even sacrifice soldiers for that. But they do not want you to get ideas of revenge and a weapon to carry it out.”

“Understood.” Shepard palmed the small object.

“I will see if I can add some electronic lock picks. It would be better if you had your omni-tool, or at least a trontec but you could not hide that.”

“Agreed.” The Prothean version of an omni-tool was surprisingly bulky. Shepard didn't know if that was because it had more functions or if it was supposed to be seen. At any rate, she had no idea how to use one. “What would I need that for, though?”

“The time travel device,” Javik replied as if that was obvious. “We cannot let it survive. Neither can the data on its construction.”

“That is a very tall order, Javik.” Shepard shook her head. “They will have backups.”

The idea made her shiver. Protheans with a working time travelling device. Protheans knowing where she lived. Protheans coming for her through time and space. She hunched up unconsciously.

“I have devised a data mole,” Javik said.” It will destroy any data on the project or anything that looks remotely related. They will have very different problems once we leave.”

“That's true. If they time this immediately to the arrival of the Reapers.” Shepard relaxed a little.”But how will you get the programme into the network once they are here? The Reapers will destroy communication first.”

“That will be the trigger.” Javik looked extremely smug. “I have already fed the virus into the system where it is currently spreading. Once a system is disconnected from the network, it will activate. And we will take care of the device itself as we go.”

“I hope you know what you're doing.”

“So do I.”

“One more thing.” Shepard had taken his arm without noticing. But he noticed. Naturally. His eyes bored into hers. Swallowing, she did not let go. “If we don't make it, if they get us,” she swallowed again. “Don't let them take me alive. Promise, Javik. Promise me this.”

Maybe the promise of a traitor didn't mean much. Who could tell if he'd promise now and do what he wanted to later? There was no guarantee that this wasn't another staged scene to play her.

“I promise.” He put his hand over hers, allowing a short glimpse at his sincerity.

If the sincerity of a traitor meant anything. But Shepard nodded. “Thank you.” She would take what she got and cling to it. Maybe that was wrong. Maybe it was the reason she was still holding on to Javik despite everything. The only thing she had.

It was a lesson driven home hard when Javik disappeared for a few days again. Not a word, nothing. He probably didn't know and had had no choice. The room was suddenly empty. A constant she had been bracing against was missing and it unbalanced her.

Not talking had been a decision. Now it was a necessity. The guards taking her for walks talked among themselves but never to her. Orders were not talking. At least they were not forcing their mental commands on her any longer.

She stared up at the piece of sky overhead. Thin clouds painted watery patterns over a too bright turquoise. Just because you hated somebody, didn't mean you couldn't miss them. And it was so difficult to actively hate him, when there was no other kind, well familiar, face around. Kindness was not a word Protheans in general seemed to know.

_Waste of time. Can't be over soon enough. Punitive transfer._

Those were the snippets she gleaned from the guards. Their tone was not very worried, though. They had their superweapon, even if it was currently doing useless acrobatics in a park. If only they knew. But maybe they did. Maybe every Prothean on Kajenat knew about her plan to escape back to her own time. Maybe it was the go-to joke around dinner tables.

Maybe they were right. She would not find out until it was too late. Though Javik had promised, how had he become so big on promises lately?, he had promised not to make her do anything before she wasn't sure she was back in her own time.

Shepard closed her eyes, thinking of everybody she left behind. It would be a blessing to hear their voices again. Even the Illusive Man and Kai Leng were more than welcome. Thinking of Garrus, Ashley and Anderson actually brought tear to her eyes. She had friends, close friends and confidants. She was not alone.

“Time to herd the mammal back into her pen.”

It took self-control not to defy them and just march of. But knowledge was power and Shepard wouldn't give them any. The muzzle of a weapon poked her shoulder.

“That way!” An impatient hand gestured.

A while ago, Shepard would have hesitated out of spite. Now she just shrugged and moved. It didn't matter. She had found ways to keep the heat sink on her person. The Reapers were about to attack. She was ready.

The Reapers seemed to know and kept their distance. It would be just her luck, if they had decided to postpone their invasion until Shepard was dead and nobody was around to operate the Crucible.

Javik returned and if Protheans could look drawn, he did. Without a word, affording only a glance and nod in her direction, he went into his own small cabin. It seemed to take forever for him to emerge again but Shepard wouldn't peek. She had done so once and it was creeping her out.

Protheans did not sleep in beds. Thinking about it that made sense because they would be constantly sharing experience with their blankets, mattress and through those maybe even the surrounding room or house. The solution was simple, not to touch anything. Or at least to touch as little as possible. Seeing a sleeping Prothean suspended in the corner of a tiny room was unsettling.

So she waited. She had practice with that by now. She had been waiting ever since they arrived. Withdrawing into herself was an art she had mastered. And there was always another memory to scrutinise, another ability to check on, another face to hold on to. The inside of her head was a busy place.

Too busy at times. But that didn't matter. Her thoughts might chase themselves in mad circles, her eyes popping wide open every few seconds. It was fine. Shepard could always put a hand against the wall or the floor. Not to drain her nervous energy, that was ridiculous. But it did make her felt. And without fail Javik would turn up. The first time unexpectedly and reminding her of a ghost of his people more than anything.

"You need to sleep.” A simple fact. But she couldn't.

“Doing my best.” It would have been impolite not to answer. It would also not have gotten him out of her room again.

“I can give you a soporific, if you want.” He had taken a tentative step closer.

“Do your drugs even work on humans?” Shepard had been sceptic. But her head was a mess and she was willing to try almost everything. Four days awake would do that to you.

“We will see.” Javik had come to a stop beside her bed. “Close your eyes.”

Shepard hadn't been sure how that would help. When Javik's thumb descended between her eyes, she wanted to jump upright, hit him, run, fight, kill, die. But a split moment later, sleep had claimed her. And it had been a deep sleep, untroubled by the usual dreams. It was a tempting offer and one she hated to accept.

But four days without sleep were four days without sleep. And he never mentioned it, never said a word. And she was sleeping better now. Not necessarily more, but sitting around on stand-by was probably making up for the lack of actual sleep.

Shepard placed her hands on the table, wondering once again how you lived if everything you touched was communicating. It was a problem she was glad she didn't share as she went to bed. Curling up under the blankets however flimsy was too comforting.

Of course the Reapers hit the Citadel in the middle of Kajenat's night.

Javik was shaking her awake with an urgent whisper. “We must go, Commander.”

Shepard rubbed the sleep from her eyes. The day had come. Or night. Whatever. This was the last time she would take one of those silly sheets and wrap um in them. She girded her loins to give her legs freedom to run and fight. Javik handed her a weapon. It was heavier than it looked.

“Let's go.” Shepard inserted the heatsink.

There were two guards lying on the ground before the door. She couldn't see if they were dead or just unconscious. The temptation to put a bullet into them just to be sure was strong. But Javik led her away quickly. They were silent like the wind, nothing but a soft rustle against the dark backdrop of the night. Shepard didn't look up to see if there were stars.

There were back alleys, tunnels and maintenance shafts. They climbed up ladders, used elevators and Shepard knew that she was lost after half an hour. Javik might just as well lead her in circles. She would never know. It wasn't a comforting thought. But she had a gun. And something Javik didn't know about. A blade, nothing more than a piece of sharp edged glass, smoked and serrated, picked up from a ledge behind a ladder. Still it would serve as a knife if necessary.

“Down.” Javik accompanied the hiss with a gesture, dropping into a dark shadow himself.

Shepard stared across the open space before them. How would hiding even work if the other could read the ground under their feet? But the Protheans walking by seemed oblivious. Either part of this charade or, Shepard couldn't think of an alternative. She peered at Javik. He crouched with his lower eyes closed. It was a creepy sight.

Suddenly he relaxed, directing the gaze of all four eyes to her. “Do not be so loud in your self. You are difficult to hide.”

Shepard nodded. Then she looked at her bare feet. Would boots help? Probably, But she had none and she would not get anything that fitted her either. Then she looked at her hands, holding on to she wall at her side, a wall she was leaning against as well.

“It doesn't matter,” Javik said. “Let's move on, Commander.”

Across the open road lay a row of buildings they easily wormed their way through, and then down. The darkness deepened. Having four eyes was probably an advantage. Shepard had to bite her lip a few times in order not to curse when her toes hit something. Boots were such a good idea. Finally they stopped again. Before them was a garage, packed with vehicles.

Javik looked at her, putting a finger over his lips. Then he held up a hand. Shepard was reluctant to touch it, but if they couldn't speak, what choice did she have? Taking a deep breath, she held her own palm against it. And then she knew which vehicle to go for, which path to take and where Javik would be until they met again.

The security system of the garage was quite something. But it was low compared to other places, so this was it. Maybe it was another lie. A very detailed one, admittedly. Shepard watched as Javik vanished into the darkness, her stomach tightening. She closed her eyes for a second, then set off herself. The vehicles shaped their very own labyrinth. There was just enough light to outline them. Four eyes were an advantage. The vision Javik had given her had shown the abysmal colours of the cars as clear as daylight.

She skirted around a huge truck, crawling through under the next one. The controls looked foreign. The seats would never accommodate a human comfortably. The car they were going for was a tiny thing, barely enough space for two. Actually, not enough space for two, but she would travel disguised as a stack of cloth, squeezed in behind the driver's seat.

Suddenly the lights came on. Shepard froze in place but there were no alarms. Cautiously she proceeded, arriving at the vehicle. Javik was already there.

“The light is for you.” He opened the door, peeling back the driver's seat. The space behind it was ridiculously small. Maybe enough for a Prothean child. If they even had any. Shepard had been in no mood to inquire.

”This will cover you.” Javik had a piece of cloth cleverly painted to resemble a stack of fabric.

“This better work,” Shepard grumbled as she squeezed into the tight space. It worked, barely. Then Javik draped the cover over her, putting the driver's seat back into place. Shepard could feel it press against her arm. Her legs were already starting to fall asleep.

There was a high whine as they took off. It was not followed by alarms, that was a hopeful beginning. Shepard closed her eyes and waited for the journey to be over. It seemed to take forever. Her legs went completely numb. Her neck began to hurt from being bent.

Being shaken wildly didn't help either. Not that she had enough space to roll around. There were going to be bruises though, as the pressure against her changed repeatedly. She was more than ready to get out when they came to a stop.

It was dark again. Javik pulled the cover off her, offering a hand to help her out.

Shepard would have loved to waive it, but her legs were in no state to move properly or keep her upright. Leaning heavily on the vehicle while waiting for her limbs to come back to life was excruciating.

“Okay, I'm ready.” The first steps were wobbly. Javik didn't say anything, but the pace at which he set off was definitely adjusted.

They had stopped in a tiny place that looked like an underground backyard. After a short passage a ladder led upwards. It was a challenge but Shepard forced her legs into compliance. The air was stiff and old, unused for a long time. It got better as they proceeded, but it took time.

The corridors lightened up a little and came to an end before a heavy door. There was no visible lock, no bolt, no handle. Javik held a hand towards it, just shy of touching the grey metal. Then he activated his trontec moving it across the surface slowly. There was a soft whirring as the mechanisms in the door activated, sliding it aside silently.

“I have overridden the security as well, but it will not last.” Javik closed the door behind them again. “I hope it will give us enough of a headstart to break through their defences.”

They would certainly find out. Inside the corridors were lit with emergency lighting. The blue glow did little to help her vision. At least her legs deigned to work again, a slight tingling the last reminder of the time she had spent cramped in the car. She looked around, trying to memorise anything.

The corridor was narrow, well-kept but bare. It had the feeling of maintenance and behind the scenes personnel. Those you didn't want to spoil the image of perfect science working out all by itself without the need of upkeep, cleaning or repairs. They found stairs that vanished in the dim light in both directions and followed it downwards for several flights.

“We will enter the official passages of the research complex now, Commander,” Javik said, as they stopped in front of another massive door. “Be ready to shoot on my word.”

“Which word?” Shepard asked. “And who?”

“Now.” He turned around with a frightful smile on his face. “And anybody who is not me.”

“I can do that.” Shepard thought that quite likely she could shoot him as well. Something that would be counterproductive until she had returned home. Oh well, there was a time and place for everything.

“Let me give you the layout, Commander.” Javik held out his hand. “You may have to go on your own.”

“The hell I will, Javik.”

“You do not have to trust me.” He nodded at the weapon in her hand. “You have that.”

She took his hand nevertheless. It was a problem. Because she wanted to trust him again, wanted this breach not to be healed but to never have happened. Everything had been alright once upon a time. He'd had her back. He'd run to save her on Despoina as if she was the centre of his universe. Maybe she had been back then.

“Personal is not the same as important, Commander.” His fingers closed around hers.

“And this isn't personal now?” It was not the right place to start such a discussion.

“No.” He let go of her hand. “It is important that these Protheans do not survive into the next cycle. They have conceited themselves into believing their strength, but these Protheans have failed.” He looked grim. “A society should not be based on hubris and bullying enabled by a chance discovery.”

“But what about your time, Javik?” Shepard's brow creased. “Why not go there and-” she couldn't say it.

“Don't you think I have thought about that?” He sounded angry. “I have thought about going back to my own time more often than you can imagine. We were the strongest race in the galaxy, tempered and perfected by the Reapers.”

“But?” She counted her breaths in the encroaching silence.

“I have done wrong by you,” Javik finally said. “And you are right to hold it against me. And if I were to repeat this offence, how likely are you to help me? It would not work. Even I cannot force your mind into the shape it needs for that, though I know you so well.” He fell silent. “I do not want to put you through this again. I want you to be right in the way you see the galaxy.”

There wasn't much you could reply to that. Shepard just nodded.

“We need to hurry, Commander.” Javik returned his attention to breaking in.

When the door slid aside, Shepard was almost blinded by the sharp light on the other side. She would have liked to try and talk her way into the facility. It had worked so often in her own cycle. But thought she was known here, she was an anomaly. Not the famous Commander Shepard on and about to save the galaxy.

Cradling her gun, she jogged after Javik. They actually made it down two crossings and a first checkpoint before detection. There she found out that the Prothean gun had almost no recoil, fired fast and did more damage than anticipated. Still, Shepard was not sure how long it would last. She wished she had her omni-tool back. Fighting without her tech powers was not convenient. Even a simple combat scanner would have been appreciated.

Instead she crouched behind the desk, scanning the corridor and waiting for Javik to get the blast door open. For once, Shepard wished Cerberus had implanted a few more tricks in her cybernetics. An in-built omni-tool would have been great. At least the biotic slam still worked and allowed her to end the sprawled enemies with a precise headshot.

“Come.” Javik waited until she was through the doors before using his trontec on the electronics and following that up with a salvo from one of the pilfered guns. He dropped it as it sputtered out of ammo. So the weapons had been tampered with. Shepard wondered if the Protheans she had shot were actually dead or just now sitting up and laughing about the joke they shared.

An alarm wailed through the air, followed by a garish purple light flaring on and off. Progress was slower now as they came upon pockets of resistance. Javik replaced his weapon at every chance, relying on biotics heavily.

Each door took longer to open with more guards and security coming at them. Shepard missed her sentry turret dearly. But they were getting closer. Down several flights of stairs, keeping out of the main corridors when possible. She could feel Javik's tension grow. And probably his frustration.

“Javik?” She urged.

“Almost, Commander. Keep them a little longer.”

At least this was the penultimate door if her head served her correctly. It was hard trusting information Javik had put there. Though, admittedly, it had all been correct so far. Shepard almost missed the next wave of Protheans when she tried to shake Javik's last words before breaking in. The guards had upgraded, bringing heavy shields that made the slam about useless.

On the other hand, those shields were amazingly convenient to squash the guards between them and the walls. Green biotics crackled around the Protheans. “Go,” Javik shouted keeping all enemies pinned.

Shepard sprinted through the door, taking up a defensive position.

“Commander!” More green whirled overhead and threw a wave of guards back that approached from the other side.

Cursing, Shepard backed off, but found no reasonable cover. This was not a good place to be in. Once the door closed, they were completely exposed. In a mad dash, she ran back, grabbed the desk and dragged it across the threshold. It wasn't much.

Javik went to lock the door again. Just as the attacking Protheans got to their feet again. Shepard took them out as quickly as she could. Then she scouted ahead, looking for positions she could actually defend. Instead she came upon a crossing. Just her fucking luck.

“This way.” Javik careened past her, down the right corridor. “Just one more door to go.”

Shepard tried to channel her excitement into running. This was the longest stretch so far. She had done well enough with the sprints but she hadn’t trained long enough to get her stamina for long distances back. Her knees brought their existence to her attention.

They ran right into the next guards, but Javik had them lifted before they reacted and Shepard found herself shooting down the tangling bodies one by one. Scrambling over them, she rushed after Javik who had barely slowed down. He looked more relaxed than he had for a very long time. More at ease, more at home.

But then, what had he ever done except fight? And the Reapers had turned his people against him in every way possible. He probably knew just fine how to tear them apart. Shepard found that she had stopped. Not a good place to be in. Not her, not him. And no time to think about it. They came up against the last door.

Javik pulled a locker from the wall to serve as better cover, before slapping the trontec against the lock.

The Protheans came at them in force. As if they had been waiting for something and were now throwing everything at them they had. Maybe they had not been meant to come this far. She dared to glance at Javik. He was focussed on the lock, one hand outstretched down the corridor, ready to add the random burst of biotics when he could spare the concentration.

If that would be enough. Shepard saw machines among the approaching force now. Strange beetles, scuttling down the corridor in a vanguard, probably meant to exhaust her ammo. She slammed as many of them away as she could. There were too many. The creepers were outfitted with small stunning devices and possibly poisoned blades. A good way to flush an enemy from cover.

And while she was picking them off, the guards approached, accompanied by bigger bugs with cannons for arms. Those were huge and bulky. It had probably taken ages to get them down here. And they ate bullets like peanuts.

“The exhausts,” Javik called to her, unleashing a wave of biotics that at least sent the foot soldiers flying.

Shepard stepped backwards until her shoulder touched his hand. Then she lined up her weapon with the small yellow dots she would have taken for muzzles. The first bug went down, unleashing a cloud of beetles that reminded Shepard of Ravagers. She slammed the first bunch away, hoping her ammo would last for the rest of them. Her right leg was slowly going numb, though she had lost only few drops of blood through the tiny incisions.

She was saved by another sweep of biotics, concentrated her fire on the other big bug and took out some more guards until her weapons were all dead. She was about to dash out to grab some of the fallen, when Javik held her back. She stiffened, but absolutely nothing happened, except that she stood in the corridor like a pillar.

“Commander!”

The urgent tone made her turn around. The door behind them was open, nothing but corridors between her and home. She looked back at Javik who was pulling at the furniture and corpses with his biotics, piling them up before the door.

Shepard got a glimpse of an even bigger force arriving before the door shut. Javik rammed his trontec into the lock, slipping it off his wrist. “You can reach the device on your own, Commander. I will hold them back.”

Shepard hesitated. Was he sending her into her death? She looked at the door behind them. What good would he do here all on his own? She could hear heaving scraping on the other side. Well, more than she would, obviously. He still had his biotics.

“Go!” He gestured her down the corridor.

“No.” Shepard stayed where she was. “You will come with me.”

She saw the hesitation on his face, uncertainty, incredulity, something akin almost to hope. He didn't understand. But neither did she.

“What can I do in the coming cycle? What place do I have there now?”

He was right. Staying behind, he might get something like an honourable death. Provided he died which she could never know. And did she really want his face around back home? Did she want to remember what he had put her through? Did she want the hole this experience had punched into her? Shepard tried to imagine life without the Prothean standing before her.

“You are not leaving me alone,” she said. “Not with all this and nobody around who knows or remembers. I cannot be the only one remembering this, knowing the truth but called crazy. You will not get away so easily.”

After a moment, Javik nodded. “Acknowledged, Commander. Let's bar this door.”

It wasn't easy. There was even less material on this side. A few more downed war bugs would have been nice, even if she had to shoot them down first. Not to mention that she didn't have a weapon left. But they did what was possible and it would have to do.

The corridor seemed to stretch on forever. Shepard felt the lack of use of her muscles acutely as they progressed and Javik did not slow down. At one point he turned around, almost grabbing her arm to pull her along, but she evaded it It almost made her fall, but it was definitely worth it. Javik made an irritated noise, but didn't insist.

They reached a sparsely guarded junction. After taking the guards out, Javik handed her a weapon and took the remaining ones himself. “Those would only slow you down.”

Right. If her exhausted state was so obvious, maybe she was even less fit than she had assumed. Looking back, Shepard saw an irregular trail of blood. Her knees buckled. Right. Poisoned beetle-blades.

Did the Protheans still think this was a staged escape, serving only to give her hope? Had the increasing forces been part of the game or a real reaction to the realisation that Javik had betrayed them and not her? She prayed to any god who would listen that they were wrong, that she could trust, this once, in the alien leading her into the heart of the facility. Hope died last. And hers had been fuelled expertly.

Shepard clenched her teeth and tried to keep up. She should have exercised more. She tried not to think of her incarceration on Earth. She had used exercise as an outlet there as well, beefing up nicely with James' help. She would see him again, that stupid beefcake. Him and his idiotic nicknames and hopeless flirting.

She would see them all again. Joker, EDI, Garrus, Liara. The names reiterated themselves in her mind, a litany to keep up to, a reason to run even if her legs gave out under her. She would bloody well see them all again. And she would make Anderson proud and kill the Reapers. In her own time. Oh, definitely in her own time.

Her legs started to wobble, numbness creeping up her calves. Her breath burned in her lungs, pumping the poison through her body even faster. Just a little longer. Just a little further. Just a little more.

“Are you alright, Commander?”

“Run!” There was no time for hesitation. And what if she hurt? It was to be expected. He had only started calling her Commander again after his return from the Citadel. Shepard suspected that something had happened there to change his mind. Or that it was what she was to believe. She didn't know what to believe. She would find out.

Javik nodded and led on.

There came a least bend and then a curtain of white plastic stripes was all separating them from the time travelling device. Shepard clung to the wall, breathing heavily while Javik cleared the controls and activated it. There was the blue glow again. It reminded her painfully of Ilos. She swallowed hard.

“So this is it.”

Javik turned towards her. “Yes, Commander. This is it. The virus is inserted and will activate after the first successful use of the device. I hope the data I have entered is correct enough to return us within the same week of our departure.”

“Why the uncertainty?” Shepard tried to stand on her legs alone. It worked if she kept a constant vigilance on her balance.

“It is a period of fifty thousand years, " Javik said. “On the way here, a few weeks or months would not have mattered. The amount of data corruption is a calculated risk.”

“We'll just make sure we don't run into ourselves if we arrive early, huh?”

“Would you rather arrive too late?” He punched more keys. The device lit up even brighter. It was time.

“And this works like the one on Ilos?” Shepard didn't understand her own hesitation.

“Almost exactly,” Javik agreed. “Though it is geared exclusively towards Protheans.”

The memory of the last trip made itself felt unpleasantly. Shepard held on to the nearest shelf and took a stumbling step towards the device. Whatever it took. She would go home. There would be home on the other side of this. There would not be another nightmare. Shepard realised that the empty air she had been staring at, was actually Javik.

“I am scared.” She had no idea how 'let's do this' had translated into that on its way from her head to her mouth.

“I will protect you.” Turning his palms outwards, Javik pushed his arms away from his body a little. It was an offer and invitation.

Shepard looked at him for a long moment. The transfer from Ilos to Kajenat had been painful. And the device had been designed with non-Protheans in mind. This one was not. And what did she have to lose? And who had been the one looking out for her. If she didn't trust him, why even follow him this far?

Leaving the moment of hesitation behind her, Shepard stepped forward. Javik's arms closed around her as her face got buried in his robe. Her spatial awareness peaked, allowing her to move in sync with the Prothean as he approached the glow.

Shepard felt the tug of it, the insistent scarping that had peeled off the layers of her being when they had arrived. But this time, the claws of time and space failed. With her face pressed against Javik's chest, and his arms round her, one hand cupping her head, the galaxy was reaching for her in vain.

They hurtled away from the explosion destroying the device and all its data, stretching thin as Shepard remembered. But her safeguard was its very own problem. Shepard wasn't twisted up only in herself this time. The proximity of Javik, the physical contact was enough to convince the universe they should be entangled into one knot of exponential complexity.

And burning in its middle, a red hot sore that his people were dead, doomed by his very actions on Eden Prime and on Ilos. Because he had been unable to return to his own time to save his people, to save the true Protheans, the peerless warriors and heroes of the Reaper War. His was the fault. He to blame that the final sleigh of hand had gone wrong, had exhausted itself on the wrong time and barred him from using her to save his species.

He had taken her, the solution to the War, to the wrong era, betrayed her trust for the one chance to trick her into defeating the Reapers in his time. He had forfeit that. The memory of Despoina like a burning needle. A friendship that could have been so much more, thrown away almost carelessly.

And for nothing.

That was on him; the extinction of his whole species. But there was something he could still save. Someone.

Shepard wondered if her own soul was laid out as neatly for Javik. The thought made her cringe and cling closer to the Prothean.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trust broken once and all but shattered  
> This is where true strength reveals.  
> Overcoming pain and hatred,  
> Blessed the heart that here prevails.


	5. Acceptance

They were crouching on the ground in silence. Nobody was shooting at them, which Shepard took for a promising sign. She felt as if she was covered in the dust of shattered sound, clinging to her through the robe and skin. The air was stale, sticking to the inside of her nose as if she had inhaled Javik's robe by accident. Coughing, she let got.

They were in the middle of a large room, the steel floor under them suggesting a space installation of some kind. The light was gentle in her eyes, a dim glow that lit up the room evenly. There was nothing much to be seen, stark walls, a panelled ceiling. As her eyes adjusted Shepard, realised on wall was darker than the rest, actually a window with space beyond.

She found that she couldn't get up. Her legs were not moving an inch. When she put her palms against them, they were cold.

“You need a doctor, Commander.” Javik rose and looked around.

Shepard watched him walk the length of the room while she tried to make her legs do something. Anything. At least she still felt her butt freeze off against the cold floor. “Where are we?”

“Gemini Sigma,” Javik replied, running a hand along one wall. “Han Mass Relay. I considered a Mass Relay to be the safest place to go. Even if the Reapers occupy the system.”

The Normandy could easily get them out, that was for sure. “I didn't know you could enter the actual Relay.”

“They do have a control centre. The researchers on Ilos found out about them. I do not think many species found them before it was too late.” He turned to look at her. “As soon as a cycle was advanced enough to start researching how to build their own Mass Relays, the harvest would begin.”

“So how do we get out?” Shepard began to drag herself across the floor. It was undignified, but there was only one alternative and she would not let that happen.

A console rose from the wall. “We call the Normandy, Commander. By the time you are here, I should have worked this out.”

Right. Right. She was slow as a sedated snail on Valium, but she would make it. The room was bigger than she had thought. She was also slower than she wanted, but her arms were wobbly from the transit. Shepard hoped not to turn into a complete pool noodle by the time she reached Javik.

She did not. Still she was happy to have a pause, resting her back against the wall while Javik explained on which frequencies he had sent out a signal. It would be hard to get anybody's attention in the middle of a war, especially this war.

“Unidentified distress signal, this is Normandy. Do you copy?”

“Joker!” Shepard struggled. Her impulse to jump up had failed and served only to unbalance her.

“Shepard, is that you?” Joker didn't sound as if he believed it.

Shepard wasn't sure she believed it herself. “This is Commander Shepard of the Systems Alliance.” She bit down on her lip, tasting blood and tears.

“Are you alright, Commander?” It might have been Javik It might have been Joker.

“Commander.” Javik crouched down beside her. “I have given the Normandy our coordinates. They will come to pick us up.”

She didn't even see him, not really. Everything was blurry and that was totally okay. It would be bad enough to face her crew with a face all red and swollen. To see her crew! Shepard tried to suppress a sob, hiccuped it instead.

“Here we have been missing for three days only,” Javik went on. How much of the conversation had she missed? “The Crucible is finished except for the Catalyst. A raid on the Illusive Man's base on Horizon is planned.”

Shepard reached for his face. Her hand turned into a claw and retracted without touching it though. “How?”

“You will get better, Commander.”

She sure hoped he was right. She would be no use at all like this.

She was no use later, either. Pumped full of tranquillisers and antidotes, her legs recuperated much faster than her head. Each time she dared to glance to the side. Shepard closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She had been filled up with enough sedatives to knock out a krogan. And yet, here she was. Crying at the sight of her cabin wall.

Looking up was slightly better. It was certainly not the ceiling she remembered from Kajenat, but it was not as familiar as the slight glow of her armoury or the fish tank. Her fish were still alive. Her hamster was well and squeaking. The temptation to jump up and check on them once more was almost too strong.

But she had to rest. Sleep and regain some kind of balance. Allow the antidote to purge her systems. Why was that so difficult? She was home. She was safe. The only Prothean in existence was Javik. They were about to hit the Cerberus base on Horizon and grab the information on the Catalyst that was hopefully there. Something they didn't really have to do, if she could believe Javik.

If she could believe Javik.

So they would raid that base. And she needed to be at her best for that. She needed to be strong. Now more than ever. For her friends. Shepard rolled overs, blinked at the wall for a confused moment and returned to staring up. She shouldn't be chasing her own thoughts. She should be out. Out for good.

Dr Chakwas hadn't found much amiss with her brainwaves, just something like nervous jitters in them but nothing alarming. Less conspicuous than after her first contact with the beacon even. Shepard had glanced at Javik. He had not been there. As soon as possible he had returned to the cargo bay. Her legs had been able to carry her in the opposite direction.

“The Commander will tell you everything you need to know,” he had said when asked to explain their disappearance and return. “Everything.”

He had left and left the choice with her. She hadn’t said anything then. She had tried to go to bed and sleep. Not much later, Dr Chakwas had started to fill her up with sleeping pills and tranquillisers. Under the thick blanket, Shepard shivered. That had been hours ago.

There was a soft beep from the door. It opened not much later and Shepard didn't have to look to know Javik's footfall. She closed her eyes but they popped back open. She wanted to lash out, curl up into herself, end everything in a bright implosion. Clenching her lips, she reminded herself to breathe.

“Commander.” Javik stopped at the foot of her bed. “Do you need a soporific?”

Such an easy question. Shepard tried to close her eyes again and again. “No. Yes. I don't know.”

She curled up under her blanket, pulling it up over her eyes to achieve some degree of darkness. She didn't know what she wanted. She wanted to sleep. But not that badly. She thought. She wasn't sure. With the outside world muffled, her mind was screeching even louder.

“I will wait until you have come to a decision.” He sat down on one of the couches, its leather making yielding noises.

Now what? Shepard kept breathing. It was dark and her eyes would not stay put. Her ears strained to hear through the blanket. But even pushing it down to her shoulders did not help. Javik was sitting in complete silence. Shepard curled up again and stared at her knees. That was better than her wall. Her knees had been with her to Kajenat.

And now they were back. She glanced up at the armoury shortly. Tomorrow she would use it again. Chose her favourite armour. Well, maybe her second favourite. What did everybody think? Them leaving fully armoured and popping up again three days later with nothing but sheets to cover them. Shepard snorted. Food for thought indeed.

The arm on which her legs laid started to fall asleep. Reluctantly, she lowered them, just enough to free her arm. She'd have to tell them something some day. But what could she say? The truth was, well, far-fetched to say the least. Even if Javik corroborated her story. Which he just might. He was still not making a single noise. Still waiting for her decision. This one, the other one. It was all in her hand.

It felt so strange. Shepard had been no stranger to power and making hard decisions, difficult decisions, important decisions. She could not lose that edge now. But it would be alright to start small. She rolled over, staring at the radio control for a moment. So that was the small decision, to say nothing, not to live in fear of their pity.

But she was home.

Shepard exhaled deeply. Home. The spacer kid that was always on the move. Finally home. She could feel the sleep creep up on her, pressing down her lids with the cresting wave of exhaustion. Even the light was fuzzy, fraying at the edges. She felt warm. Safe. Home. She could sleep now. Shepard smiled.

“Yes,” she mumbled into her pillow. “Soporific.” The touch of Javik's thumb between her eyes might just have been a last surge of her imagination.

She woke up in a warm haze that turned out to be her blanket. Her head felt heavy, drunken without the buzz, slow and fuzzy. Shepard sat up, fully expecting to find Javik still sitting on her couch. He was not.

She let her gaze sweep through the room. It still felt like a dream. Crumpling the blanket in one hand, Shepard closed her eyes. There was the hum of the engines, just barely to be felt if you concentrated and believed. The light was of a gentle yellow. Shepard turned on the stereo and walked to the fish tank. The jellyfish floated by, the eel drew complicated lines in the water. The seaweed was waving hypnotically.

It was a pleasure of it's own to feed the hamster. The tiny crumble of the grains between her fingers. The satisfied meeping of the little scunner as he shoved it all into his cheek pouches. He looked so ridiculous.

Food.

Shepard showered with lightspeed, the one thing she had been able to somewhat enjoy on Kajenat. There would be real food, human food, even if it was just porridge. Come on, a fine porridge with a hint of sugar and raisins? She was game. Toast with nothing but a slab of butter melting on it? Hell, yeah. Whatever prejudice Javik had in favour of Prothean cuisine, she would never share it.

There was no chorus of voices or questions when she reached the kitchen. It was a blow in the gut. But what had she expected? To them she had only been gone three days. Worrisome, but not overly dramatic. And she was back now, wasn't she? Ready to tear the Reapers a new one.

It was so strange to be surrounded by people and still alone. As if some pressure had been taken away. Shepard wondered if the experiential exchange didn't just mean that the environment communicated with the Protheans incessantly. Maybe it did work both ways. Maybe that chatter was the backdrop to living among Protheans, just like the engines defined the silence of a starship.

“You are looking off, Shepard.” Liara slipped into a chair beside her. “Are you certain you want to do this now? We can wait if you need time.”

There was an unspoken question there. What had happened to make her look as horrible as she had upon arrival? Dr Chakwas had asked and would likely do so again. She saw the effects her months on Kajenat had had. She knew there was a lot more to those three days than Shepard let on.

And coming from Liara this offer was even more heartbreaking. She had just lost her home planet. It was a distant past for Shepard, but for Liara the pain was still raw. And still she wanted to give her time. Friends. She had them here. Friends. A home. Family.

“No, we have to act fast. And I am fine. Really.” Shepard smiled and patted Liara's hand. “I am fine.”

“If you say so.” Liara's look told clearly that the asari didn't believe her. But, and that made Shepard smile even more, the asari had no way to know. They could hold hands until the cows came home. It didn't matter.

“I do. We'll meet for a briefing later and then the Illusive Man will soon wish he had never set a foot on Horizon.”

If he had. She didn't say that out loud. Kai Leng may have vanished there, but there was no actual proof he had gone to the main Cerberus base. They would see. They would find the Illusive Man. There was no way she would give up now. She was back home. Everything was possible.

The briefing went well. Everybody was eager to get some payback. They would just grab any data they could get their hands on. And, if applicable, destroy Kai Leng and the Illusive Man, and preferably all bloody Cerberus with them. Shepard wondered who she wanted to take along.

After deliberating long and hard, she still made one wrong decision after another. The whole mission to Horizon was a disaster. Garrus had been an obvious choice, her best friend and one of her oldest as well. The one who had supported her unquestioningly when Cerberus had rebuilt her.

It was the reason she couldn't bring herself to bring Kaidan. So she had chosen James. Another human, a walking reminder that this was the cycle that had humans in it. Plus he was a hopeless optimist and flirt. She needed some cheer.

At the beginning it seemed to work, too. Garrus took out the enemies on the balcony easily. James and her had hardly to deal with anything that hit the ground. Seeing dead rachni made her body stutter. It was difficult to hide, but since they ran into more Cerberus troops at the same time the others were too occupied to notice.

But when they hit the first Banshee, all Shepard could do was freeze, as the screech clawed into her head. Yellow spots like double-pupilled eyes danced before her. Memories reached out and dragged her back fifty thousand years into the past with her head split wide open. She glanced around for a familiar face.

But there was nothing. Javik was on the Normandy and taking a step backwards didn't give her a plan of escape.

Shepard fled to the nearest cover, setting up a sentry turret and sending out an attack drone. Then she closed here eyes and tried to breathe. This was not the time to escape. This was the time to fight. Gripping her submachine gun she peered into the fight, targeting the Banshee. She would do this. She was Commander Shepard, first human spectre, saviour of the Citadel, destroyer of the Collectors. What did a few months of Prothean internment mean?

The Banshee went down with a last scream that ripped through her mind. Taking out the Marauders was practically relaxing. Shepard didn't notice the Ravager until she stepped over its dead body as they moved out. She took the time as to listen to each audio log just to get a grip on herself. Her mind was still scattered. She felt shaky, the ground under her not as assuringly solid as expected. And what was worse, she felt alone. With Garrus and James giving her cover, she felt alone.

She watched herself closely as they cleared out the next rooms. There was definitely too much adrenaline running through her, not all of it stemming from the battle. She knew how to fight. Killing things was not the problem. Being a person while doing so was.

And there was so much at stake here. No, they had not found the Illusive Man here. But they would. He left traces of himself, they'd piece it together. They would work it out and leave him nowhere to hide. The war was not lost. She was back in time and on time to win.

And then there was Oriana. On this planet, in this base and possibly in need of help. Though an obvious reminder of her inability to save Miranda, she was still alive. A chance to make amends to the dead. The personal and the important intertwined so closely. How could she spare even one thought? She listened as Oriana talked about disabling the communications scrambler. This was her priority. And yet.

Shepard looked over her shoulder, barely suppressing a flinch when Javik was not there. She shouldn't look for him. She shouldn't feel the need to have him around. This was all wired totally wrong. But given the chance, given the choice, she'd have retracted their steps in an instant and swapped any of her teammates for that bloody Prothean. Both even.

But that wasn't possible, so she'd press on. With the team she had, which was a great team. Garrus took out the barrier engines with his sniper rifle, she whittled down the barriers themselves and James exploded the cannibals. More Ravagers kept her mind neatly occupied and it was not until they came upon the next Banshee that Shepard felt off kilter again. It was that bloody screaming.

It was like nails on a blackboard in your mind. A feeling she remembered too well. It had not been accompanied by sound on Kajenat. Instead it had been deadly. What did it matter that she was here now when a single sound could scatter her thoughts like leaves? Almost involuntarily, she took a step backwards. There was no steadying hand, no sudden insight.

Three brutes approaching in unison were barely enough to get her mind back on track. Three brutes! Was she even listening to her own thoughts? What would be next? Would she have to be up against a Reaper one-on-one to keep focussed? But her mind was torn. They needed the information Kai Leng had stolen. The alternative was to trust Javik.

Not that Henry Lawson would cooperate, or even know where to find the Illusive Man. Shepard killed him. What had she come to? Even if she did make sure he released Oriana first. But then, was it so bad? Even Mordin had been in favour of killing dangerous individuals for the sake of innocents. And there were as yet innocents in this war. She had to remember that. The image of delicately draped robes tried to blot out everything.

“Shepard?” Garrus words blew right through her.

“Commander?” The wrong pronunciation of it made her look up. James was looming at her full of concern. “Are you alright?”

She couldn't even smile. “Just thinking about Miranda.” It was a safe bet. She had never cared much for the other woman though she was competent and an outstanding warrior. It seemed unfair to dislike her for no reason, so Shepard had gone out of her way to be nice. Everybody deserved nice. Maybe saving her little sister would count for something. If there was an afterlife to keep scores in. For herself, the redeeming quality of her action was inefficient.

“So, what have we got?” Shepard asked without much hope. Enclosed by the Normandy, she felt much safer, grounded. Even though she could not move around too far, freedom was unlimited. At home on the run.

“It's not much,” Hackett said. “But we can puzzle it together. I already have a team on it.”

“How long will it take?”

“Hard to say.”

“Anything we can do in the meantime?” Shepard wanted to keep occupied, It was a priority.

“Nothing I can think of right now.” Now that was a first. Hackett was usually a fountain of jobs. “Why don't you send the Normandy to dry dock for a few days? Put the crew on shore leave to unwind.”

Shepard couldn't think of anything less appealing than having a lot of time off with nothing to do but let her mind spin. Still, her crew deserved better. And they had been grinding since the day they left earth.

“I'll think about it.” It was a strange way to say yes.

“I'll keep you posted. Hackett out.”

Shepard stared at the empty air before her. So. Shore leave. At least the briefing ahead would end on a happy note for everybody else.

Maybe she should have expected the happy chorus. Maybe it shouldn't have hurt. At least she didn't flinch. The crew filed out of the War Room, in the centre of which a holo of the Citadel, their destination, hung. It was ironically the last peaceful place in the galaxy when until now it had always been the first to fall into Reaper hands.

Shepard turned towards the comm room, wondering whether to call Anderson. She had avoided it so far, not wishing to taint that relationship with her new self.

“Commander.”

It was so tempting, bodily painful not to take a step backwards and suddenly know. Shepard didn't even know what it was that suddenly made so much sense.

“Are you alright?”

That he of all people should stay behind. That he of all people should think to ask her. Maybe the latter wasn't so much of a surprise. Maybe that explained the former as well. It was what it was.

“Not yet.” Turning around was the only way to resist taking that one step into him.

“Social interaction may be beneficial for your recuperation,” Javik said. Four yellow eyes watched her carefully. “Interaction outside of the field of war. You will get better.”

“So I hope.” Shepard sighed deeply. Why couldn't everything just be over?

Now that was a laughable notion. She couldn't even go on shore leave without leaving a trail of dead bodies. Take sushi for example. Admittedly, fish didn't really count and hostile mercs could just as well be considered a good deed. Too bad they hadn’t been Cerberus, that gave double brownie points.

The charity event didn't fare much better. She caved and took Javik along who in turn caved and grudgingly donned a tux. A sight nobody was about to forget any time soon. And though the bodycount only came up to one, that one was the body of the only guy they had wanted to speak to. Shepard was ready to hear back form Hackett and set out to raid the Illusive Man's base.

It didn't help that Javik complained about James teasing him about being on a date with her. “Well, we can rule that out, can't we?” She crossed her arms before her.

“Protheans did not date primitives,” he agreed. “We conquered them, enslaved them we sometimes ate them but we did not date them.”

“Not to mention abduct them and...” Shepard sighed. “Forget it.”

“I won't. It is an episode in our lives I am not proud of,” he replied. “But I am here if you need me and so you know it did happen.”

“But if you could, you would sacrifice me, our friendship to save your people without thinking, wouldn't you?” Shepard shook her head.

“Of course,” Javik said. “Though not entirely without regret. Wouldn't you? What is one friend, one friendship compared to the fate of the galaxy?”

That was it, Shepard realised. This is why there had been no hope for his species. This was why they had failed. “It's everything. I can only decide for myself, my own battle, my own sacrifice. But I could never force that on somebody else. They have to come to this decision on their own.”

“And what if they don't?”

“Then this cycle isn't worth saving any more than yours.”

Javik didn't reply. What was there for him to say? His species had died because they had thought like he did. And her species and all others in this cycle would live because she stood by this. The failure wasn't on him alone, but there was nobody left for him to share it with.

Shepard left him to his own thoughts. He had lost everything, twice. And she was only the last item on his list of things worth saving. She wasn't sure if it made her just angry or also a little bit grateful. She was everything he had left now more than ever. It was something she would have liked to be rid of.

Instead she took him along in her team when they began the hunt for her persecutor in the archives. A foolish choice, for sure. But one that grounded her. She could focus on shooting mercenaries and keep the collateral low. Spectre or not, Shepard was certain the authorities wouldn't react well to bullet holes and burn marks all over the archives.

It was a shock, when their enemy turned out to be her own clone. Free of the wear and tear, just as she claimed. It was an accusation, Shepard felt in her bones. She was afflicted, maimed and jaded, no doubt about that. Though nobody but Javik knew why. Maybe the galaxy would be better off with her clone.

“No one would ever believe, you're the Commander!” Javik reacted to the clone's plan to replace her.

The vehemence surprised Shepard. But didn't he have to know? She glanced at the Prothean who looked rather ridiculous with his hands behind his head. If the experience during their return home had been going both ways, wouldn't he know?

Shepard was so distracted, she almost missed the clone's plan to steal her ship. Though, calling Traynor to lock it down might just have been part of the plan. Her command was intercepted and just a second later, the clone sent her own order to prep for an emergency departure.

Why Traynor believed that, was a mystery. The Normandy was in dry dock, repairs were under way. But solving that would have to wait. First, they had to take out the clone and her mercenaries. It was easier than expected. The CAT6 were hardy, but she had her whole team, her whole team, with her. The fire power wasn't as much of a boost as the solidarity and bickering.

Javik blended into that backdrop too easily. He had not been a social type before. Before. Shepard took a deep breath, pushed the memories away and took a step backwards. There was no epiphany, no all-encompassing revelation. Just a three-fingered hand on her shoulder.

“You are better than her, Commander.” Javik pushed her away gently. “I know you.”

“Then you know that I'll cut you from my life as soon as I can,” she replied softly.

“Of course, Commander.”

“What will you do then?” Shepard didn't know why she wanted Javik to be hurt about this.

“It does not matter.” He nudged her to move on. “The only thing that matters is that you survive unchanged and the Reapers will be destroyed.”

And one depended on the other so he would do – what? Unlocking the next door, Shepard tried to push those thoughts away as well. It was more difficult because Javik was a step behind her and she could feel his presence as if it crept up through the soles of her feet.

She didn't escape that feeling very far. Behind the door they were almost immediately trapped in one of the iridium vaults. And as it turned out, Brooks was not Alliance but ex-Cerberus and worked together with her clone. Oh well, she'd amend that some other time.

And it wasn't so bad being locked up with Javik. He was familiar, known to her in a way nobody else was. It was not right, not appropriate, and not good for her. But it was holding her together when little else did. Shepard listened to him and EDI bicker and complain. She didn't even have to close her eyes. It was a good moment.

Of course it couldn't last forever. Had everybody else really forgotten about Glyph? Sometimes she wondered how she had gotten this far with a crew like that. She snorted half a laugh. The Normandy had been a circus as much as a collection of misfits ever since she had gotten her hands on the ship. Why would she be surprised now?

“Is there something funny about our situation?” EDI asked as they climbed back to the surface.

“Nothing, really,” Shepard replied. “Just thinking about old times.”

“Was this retrospective caused by your impending demise?”

“EDI, I knew Glyph was out there the whole time. I did not feel any closer to death than usual.” Shepard let out a laugh. “I just thought about how I ended up with such a motley crew.”

“As I remember, you have worked with Garrus and Liara before Cerberus rebuilt you,” EDI said. “But I see your point. For an Alliance ship it has always had many non-Alliance and non-human members on board.”

Shepard reached the end of the final ladder, turned around and held out her hand to help Javik up. “I shouldn't be surprised about anything, should I?”

He didn't reply. He did take her hand though. It was just a touch.

Shepard pulled up EDI as well, feeling the strange strain of a smile on her face. A smile that only broadened when each and every team member she didn't chose complained about being left behind. But she would stick with EDI because she _was_ the Normandy. And Javik, well. There was enough angry adrenaline running through her already. No need to add some of the anxious variety.

A gamble that paid of when Javik had to follow through the very narrow maintenance shaft. It was a miracle that his armour didn't bang against the walls, announcing them all the way to the Perseus Veil. But it didn't.

Cleaning the mercs out of the CIC was easy enough, but fighting herself in the shuttle bay. Shepard didn't know how she would have managed on her own. There was no trick that surprised her clone, no move she didn't anticipate and knew how to counter. She was utterly predictable.

And the clone was ruthless. Something Shepard had thought she had achieved through her time on Kajenat. But the clone was on a completely different level, fierce and fearless. More than once Shepard was tempted to just go with it, allow her to take her place, hell, even brief her on her life.

It was Javik who managed to get the decisive blows in, slowly whittling down the clones shields and armour, distracting her just at the right moment, teasing her out of cover perfectly timed for another tech attack.

And it was Javik who was the first to lean over the ramp, offering help. But he let EDI pull her up in the end. It was the answer Shepard had not known she had been waiting for, the reason why it was her, always her. She saw the turmoil in her clone's eyes, hanging all on her own, deserted, confused, and angry. But she wouldn't yield, would not change even if that was choosing death over life. Shepard watched her body drop out of sight.

Had to be me. Mordin's voice echoed in her head. She turned to look at Javik and EDI. A Prothean working with a synthetic without complaining. He wanted her view of the galaxy to be correct. Shepard stumbled back into the shuttle bay watching as Maya was taken into custody.

There was a moment, just a split second where she wondered if the galaxy wouldn't be better off with her dead. But that was her clone speaking. That was the way to defeat, acknowledging that you had given up taking the difficult path of kindness and mercy.

The party had not been her idea. She was tired. But her crew deserved better. Her crew deserved the old Commander Shepard who would have jumped at the opportunity go gather everybody together. It was how you wove the carpet of life, bringing all strands together. And if she was not part of the pattern but the shuttle, what about it?

“I,” Shepard hesitated for a moment, doing her best to blank out the party around them, “I owe you thanks.”

Javik tilted his head. “What for, Commander?”

“On the Normandy, my clone. You, I don't think I could have taken her down without you.”

He smiled tightly. “I knew her almost as well as I know you, Commander. She was flaunting her differences. A grave mistake.”

Shepard suppressed shiver. To know that Javik could take her down so easily should he wish. But he didn't wish to. That much she knew. That much she believed to know. She mingled and got drunk, mingled some more with other drunk guests and even danced. That was a sure sign of being drunk. Still, the alcohol didn't help as much as expected.

Javik and Zaeed turned her bar into an impromptu exercise field which was acceptable with the amount of scotch she had ingested. Partly thanks to Zaeed who had sprung a few bottles of Mount Milgrom from his private stock.

Grunt ended up whimpering to himself drunkenly in a shower and Tali occupied another bathroom for the same reason. Joker just slumped more and more at the bar while Samara meditated on the upper level. Shepard was just happy she had enough space to accommodate everybody. No one was in a shape to go anywhere.

In the end Shepard found herself on the balcony overlooking the silent living rooms. The lights were dimmed down, but she couldn't sleep. The duvets were cosy and comforting, but her eyes just wouldn't stay shut.

“It appears that you are unable to sleep, Shepard. Various sources suggest that talking may help calm your mind.”

“EDI.” Shepard turned around, resting against the railing. “You don't sleep?”

“My programmes do not need to pause,” the AI replied. “It affords me extra time in comparison to organic life forms. Did you wish to deflect my inquiry completely?"

“I don't know.” Shepard shrugged. “You are right, I can't sleep. But I am not sure if talking will do any good.”

“You cannot know unless you try,” EDI insisted.

“Okay.” Shepard turned back to look over the living rooms.

“And if you wish, you may also insist that your unrest stems solely from facing yourself in battle.” EDI took up position beside her. There wasn't a hint of body warmth coming from her.

“I might,” Shepard said. “But let's hear your take on this.”

“I am corroborating that your tension has to do with your sudden absence,” EDI began. “Though nobody seems to have noted, your hair was decidedly longer than it should be on your return. Inferring from your intervals of haircuts, I would estimate the time to span six to eight months. Though I am unable to come up with any scientifically sound explanation.”

“Okay.” It wasn't that difficult to see if you bothered to look. Shepard wondered how many of her crew had noticed but kept silent for various reasons.

“It is also safe to assume that Javik was with you,” EDI continued. “His behaviour patterns have also changed noticeably since your return. His actions and utterances are more supportive and defensive of you. He appears to be making amends.”

“That is very observant of you, EDI.” Shepard couldn't look at her. “You are putting that extra time to good use.”

“I take this as a confirmation of my conjectures,” the AI replied. “You have not spoken about that time, Shepard.”

“No,” Shepard agreed. “I have not. I, I just don't know what to say. It all seems so impossible.”

“Has Javik hurt you?”

“What? No. Physically, no, never put a hand on me.” It was technically wrong but true as far as inflicting pain or damage to her was concerned.”

“Studies prove that mental damage can be much worse than physical damage with longer lasting and deeper consequences.” If EDI considered that helpful, Shepard didn't agree. “I can remove the Prothean, should you so wish, Commander. I am the Normandy and control the airlock.”

“Thank you EDI. I don't think that will be necessary.” Shepard imagined spacing Javik for a moment.

“Is there anything you wish to communicate?” EDI wanted to know.

“I am not sure.” Shepard sighed. “He betrayed me. Completely. And he'd do so again if he could get away with it.”

“But you do not wish to remove him,” EDI insisted. “Why?”

“I don't know.” Shepard put her head in her hands. “I don't know. Maybe. I don't know. But he is the only one who was there, who knows I am not crazy. I hate that he was there. But I need to know it was real.”

“I see.” EDI fell silent. “I am afraid my data bases do not cover situations like this.”

“Neither do mine.” Shepard laughed. “I don't think anybody knows what to do in this case. And facing the other me – I don't know. Would the galaxy be better of with her instead of me? What if I have returned too broken? What if he broke me and all the hope for this cycle.”

“This assumes that your task cannot be done by anybody else,” EDI said. “The information you base this on comes form the time out, I assume.”

“It does. It doesn't. Both. I may know what we need to know, but I know from Javik.”

“And you do not trust Javik.”

“I do not want to trust Javik.” Shepard wished she was fast asleep until forever.

“I see.” EDI contemplated for a while. “I want you to know that no matter what you decide, I will stand with you. And my offer to throw him out the airlock stands.

“Thank you EDI.” Shepard sighed. “I am not sure this had helped, but I really want to sleep now.”

“Do you want a soporific?”

Shepard froze. That question. She took a deep breath. She closed her eyes, took another breath. “Thank you, I will be fine.”

“It is an obvious lie,” EDI replied, “but I will respect your desire to be left alone. For now. Goodnight, Shepard.”

Faced with her bed, Shepard wished she had taken EDI up on the offer. But it was too late now and impossible then. Following a softly gurgling sound, she found Javik on the floor of her bathroom. Awkward, but overall his problem. At least for him getting drunk had worked.

“Mostly, Commander.” Four eyes blinked at her completely out of sync.

“Sorry to wake you,” Shepard said automatically. “I should have been quieter.”

“You are quiet quite,” Javik said slowly. “Your thoughts, though, Commander, your thoughts are always so loud.”

“I don't think I can do anything about that.”

Javik reached behind him and produced a bottle. He offered it to her. “The Zaeed mercenary has good taste in drinks.”

Shepard sat down on the ground, taking the bottle. Triple distilled, 45 years old, older than her. She took a sip and felt it burn down its way into her stomach. This was probably a very bad idea. “You like him?”

“I approve of his attitude. He has no illusions.” Javik held out a hand and Shepard gave him the bottle. “It is rare to find somebody in your vicinity without scruples.”

“Yeah, well.”

“Nobody in this cycle has fought the war that I have fought.” He took another drink. “They do not understand what it was like. It is why I am here now.”

“You mean sitting on the floor of my bathroom?” Shepard tried to raise a brow, failed and appropriate the whisky instead.

“Yes, Commander. Here. Now.” He steadied himself with on hand. “You were right to ask.”

Shepard blinked. She had asked Javik to sit on her bathroom floor? She must have had more drinks than she remembered. “I did?”

“You were also right that it would not be easy.” He took the bottle from her. “There is no hope for me. But there is hope for you.” Javik emptied the bottle in a few big gulps. “Go and sleep, Shepard. You need it.”

Shepard watched as he closed his eyes and slowly sank backwards. Maybe now he was drunk enough not to hear her. Sitting right next to him was likely not helping that any. She clambered to her feet. There was hope for her. Well, for her cycle.

And if she lived, what would she do with the broken remains of the last Prothean? Did doing the right thing because it was the last option still count for something? How many second chances had she given in her life. Third chances even.

But he would betray her again. If it saved his people, he would. Did the fact that this was impossible alleviate that? And why was she standing here, contemplating it anyway? Amends EDI had called it. Nothing left to lose but the friend already lost.

Maybe she would live. Maybe she would actually survive this. And she wouldn't have to see him ever again and she wouldn't. The crew would drift apart as it had the last time. And she would be free. And she would heal. Shepard closed her eyes, breathing deeply. She could feel the winds of foreign planets on her face, the rain of unexplored places.

If there was a future, it was hers and she would claim it. Bit by bit, piece by piece. Just as she would conquer her past. She looked down at the prostrate form of Javik. Bit by bit, piece by piece. It would be all hers and hers alone. The rain of unexplored paces bust on the burgundy armour of the last Prothean.

“Up with you.” She pulled Javik upright at his arm. It wouldn't be as perfect as the suspension systems on Kajenat but it would be a start. “The cupboards are all but empty. I'm sure we can strap you into one.”

There was no reply, not even the feeling of one as they trudged off. As it should be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Silence falls and all things end  
> Hold me fast do not let go  
> I who know you, know you well  
> Down to the silence in your soul


	6. The Poem

**The Five Stages of Betrayal**

Speak scathing words of broken ashes,  
Ashes of a trillion souls.  
Ask them if your honour matters;  
listen to the silence howl

Stand hardened in resigned resistance,  
Nothing matters no one cares.  
Strength is more than winning battles;  
Strength is honour, trust, and faith.  
  
And you who did not heed the silence  
Heed the beating of your heart  
You can't force a price on living  
Though the gods know you have tried.  
  
Trust broken once and all but shattered  
This is where true strength reveals,  
Overcoming pain and hatred  
Blessed the heart that here prevails.  
  
Silence falls and all things end,  
Hold me fast do not let go.  
I who know you, know you well,  
Down to the silence in your soul.


End file.
